Bad Ass
by ValidEgo
Summary: Before Snape became a spy for the Order, he was a Death Eater.  A disingenuous Death Eater.  Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1:  The Very Devil

**Bad Ass**

Disclaimer: I'm borrowing the characters and world of this story from JK Rowling for a nonprofit pursuit: my own amusement. The contents of this story are connected in no way, shape or form with the following entities: Pepsi, John Kerry, Nabisco, Bill Gates, NBC, the terrorists responsible for the Hindenburgh explosion, Jennifer Love Hewitt, the estate of Jimi Hendrix, Dave Chappelle, Clifford the Big Red Dog, Rand McNally, Home Depot, Burger King, Betty Crocker or the idiots on Survivor. Any resemblance to these people or entities is purely coincidental, nor does it matter because nobody reads these stupid disclaimers all the way through anyway. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1 - The Very Devil**

_**Town of Norton**_

The wind was blowing from the north and it was blowing cold, but Severus Snape felt none of it. He was on the ground, on his belly, crawling through the thick underbrush surrounding the town of Norton. Further behind him and to his left he heard a grunt and a curse. Turning his head, he glared at Harper, the Death Eater behind him. Harper looked up apologetically but Severus said nothing. He'd teach that pathetic excuse for a soldier a lesson when this was all over, if they survived.

He looked back to the rest of the Death Eaters following him into battle. They kept low, just as he had told them to. At his insistence, the Dark Lord had allowed them to lose their white masks in favor of dull black ones. All exposed skin was painted black, and robes were given up for trousers and boots. This mission was very important to the Dark Lord, and Severus was determined that Voldemort would see how seriously he took it.

Because when he failed in the task, it would not be said that Severus had failed to take precautions. And they would fail, of that Severus was sure. He would see to it. The trick was making it look like the others had failed as soldiers and not he. Death would come for him soon enough, but his work was not quite done yet. This is why, despite the fact that it would make the Order's job harder, he had ordered his men into night camouflage.

The town could be seen through the trees, the lights from the houses casting long shadows along the ground, and in that shadow would be members of the Order of the Phoenix. Severus had to reign in his own adrenaline just at the thought, at least until the battle began in earnest. The Death Eaters were expecting some resistance. The town was made up of nearly a quarter of the Ministry's Aurors. Severus had always thought it very silly indeed that so many Aurors should live in such an unprotected little town, but he was not in charge of things and it showed. At any rate, the Aurors were joined tonight by the Order as per Severus' suggestion in the message he had managed to get through. Of course, none in the Order, not even Dumbledore, knew whom it was that had sent the message. He would be fighting tonight, no doubt about that.

The Dark Lord's orders were to kill as many Aurors as possible and visit the same fate on the families. With any luck, the families would have been moved out by now. At any rate, the Death Eaters would be taking no prisoners. And it fell to him to weather the storm, protect himself from his allies, and protect his allies from his men.

_All wars are based on deception_, he thought as a particularly vicious wind snapped through the trees overhead. Even the most righteous use it to win. They call it strategy but it is still deception. Severus was the master of deception. His Muggle father had taught him all about his religion. The Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit and the Father of Lies, locked in a timeless battle over men's souls. When Severus had been younger, he had been filled with a sense of fear and guilt whenever his father preached to him or dragged him to church on Sundays. There was a lot he could say about his father's hypocrisy, but that was neither here nor there.

What had really impressed him later on in life were the mechanics of this so-called 'heavenly' war. He had read the 'Old Testament' as a child, and his father had told him that Satan was the adversary in all the stories. It had seemed to Severus that the 'adversary' had been an essential role, a voice of dissent and reason in a world where all paid homage to one Supreme Being. Later, he had formed the idea that perhaps Satan had the right of it. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," indeed. Why serve a being so fickle? But he did not care to study the motivations of the heavenly host as it were. He knew his own mind and would keep only that for counsel. What he had begun to appreciate in the last few years were the ways Satan had waged his war. It seemed to Severus that if God were so very all-powerful and had the power of all the hosts of heaven, the true Dark Lord, Father of Lies, Deceiver and Traitor, would have been killed outright already. No, Satan enjoyed some measure of success because he was clever. And Severus was still alive because of that very reason. He had more than once laughed over people calling him 'the very devil'. True in some ways. But while Satan enjoyed notoriety for being evil, Severus was not. Oh, he was bad and in some ways very dark, but not evil, never evil. But in the end, Severus had to agree with Milton: it was better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. Or from his point of view: to be master of himself rather than slave to another.

Severus scanned the town once more for movement. There, behind the hedge there … and there again, on the roof. They were walking into a trap, but he knew better than to think that the men following him would be taken down so easily. And because all things in his life were ironies these days, he felt relieved by that fact. There were some that he would kill himself, not if, but when he got the chance.

Still, a few of them had been with him since his school days. Some of them had children that he had met. He protected them as best he could, considering what his purpose was. Luckily, his only true friend, Lucius, was not here and would likely never be. Lucius was too valuable to lose in a battle like this and for that he took great comfort. He could not confide in Lucius, he could not support Lucius' politics in his heart, but when all was said and done, he would never give Lucius away or harm him.

Another wind whipped through the trees above him. He took a moment to look up through the canopy into the clear sky. One never knew when it would be the last time after all. But his eyes did not linger. He turned to look back at his men and without hesitation, signaled the advance formation forward. He watched from behind as they moved quietly through the underbrush towards the town. _Did they see the danger?_ he wondered. He was torn as to whether he wished them to or not. But when all was said and done, it was the responsibility of these particular soldiers to spot such danger. If they did not, then they would not survive long anyway.

He watched with the others as the advance guard stood from their cover after signaling and moved forward into the town proper. No, they had not seen the danger. Severus frowned.

In the very next instant, a spell light arced toward his men from one of the roofs in the town. It missed his men completely and Severus swore softly, as much from frustration with the Aurors giving themselves away as from the thought of the battle that his men would now have to engage in. But the conflict did not slow him down. Almost immediately, he stood, shouted orders to his men, and they were off to engage the 'enemy.'

One word was all it took to convey all the way back to his rear guard that they were meeting resistance. Another word told his men that they were to proceed with orders after engaging the threat. A raised hand told his men to push forward, and a touch to his wrist was enough to inform them that they were to do so cautiously and in defensive formation. The battle was met.

Severus strode after his advance and before the rest, confident and dark. He moved from shadow to shadow and reveled in the knowledge that he moved unseen. He scanned the field before him as the night lit up with spell light from seemingly every direction. So many possibilities … there were so many possibilities to him. He could see it clearly from where he stalked toward the town. If he ordered his men to the right, behind the cover of the horse stalls but with the advantage of higher ground, he could turn the tide of the battle against the Order and the Aurors. He could order his men to the left, through the main road and it would be a slaughter no matter the skill of his Death Eaters. Or, he could order his men to stand and fight from the border, moving forward only as they made progress. Then, nobody would win, nobody would lose and Severus would be able to say that he had done his best and it would only be a small lie. _Someone must have warned the Order, my Lord. _Severus let out a bark of laughter as he strode out of the shadows. Today was a good day.

Avery looked over as his commander came out of the forest. "Commander!" he called. "We're experiencing resistance from 3 o'clock level 2, 9 o'clock level 1, and 11 levels 1 and 2." Severus nodded and erected a shield around himself and three of his soldiers, Avery included, as a spell shot out from the nearest building.

"Rogers! Benning! Forward and right. Disable that shooter!" The two soldiers obeyed instantly, and Severus left Avery and Logan behind to push the line forward. "Forward Serpentine," he called to his advance guard. It wouldn't do to leave without the fight that everyone was expecting after all.

From Avery's left, Bella called out, "I love a man that grins when he fights," and then she jumped out from behind her cover and practically skipped to fall in line behind Severus, a wide smile on her face as well.

Avery and Logan shook their heads with a smile. "I think she wants to marry him and not Rodolphus," Logan whispered conspiratorially as they too slipped out and ran forward.

When they made it to their next cover, Avery shook his head. "It'd never work."

"No?"

"No. They'd kill each other before they could consummate the marriage," he laughed. Logan grinned and the two set their wands against their prey.

Severus pushed forward with single-minded determination. He could see that they would fail in their objective this way. The Aurors were too hidden; their cover too good for them to break through from this position. But that didn't mean that they would be wiped away either. Some of the Order's wards would fall. That would leave them scrambling to erect new ones or dive behind the safety of the stronger wards. That, in turn, would allow his men to push forward into the town proper where they would find that all the buildings had been evacuated. When his men and women discovered this, he would push forward only a little further, as though determined to at least take a few of the resistance with him. And he likely would. But pushing forward would also lose him some of his own men. At every step of the way, he would see possibilities to sway the war decidedly in one way or the other as he always did. And he would ignore them all.

And that's how it happened. The Death Eaters pushed into the town as Severus and Avery pushed through the outer wards, and Bella covered them. Logan led his team into the outer buildings, failing to find a single person. Severus forced his men forward, moving the line foot by foot until they could see the town square from their positions. Now, he just needed an incontrovertible reason for pulling out and a way to save face for his Death Eaters in this battle.

He scanned the square as he threw out curses. Some connected, but they weren't lethal. There were Muggle cars parked on the road although he knew for a fact that this village was entirely wizard. _Hmm_.

Grinning, he stepped forward and left his cover behind. The Death Eaters around him jumped up and offered cover fire as they had been taught to … as he had taught them to. Darting forward in a serpentine pattern to avoid being cursed, he threw himself behind a large oak tree in front of a building that Logan's team had just cleared. He looked back to see that his people were under heavy fire. Now was his chance. He let his wand snake around the tree and took aim at the gas tank of the nearest car.

Seconds later, the Death Eaters and Order members jumped back from the shock of a car exploding in the center of the town. Severus jerked back from the flying debris and burning heat and leaned out from the other side of the tree. Before any of the fighters could recover from their shock, he blew up a car even closer to the Death Eaters. This time he ducked too late, and a bolt hit his mask right between the eyes, cracking it and cutting the skin beneath.

"Damn," he swore as he stood up and ran back to his line. "They've planted bombs," he panted when he got back to the line. Bella looked at him with confusion, and Severus had to stifle a laugh at the look on her face. Silly chit had never heard of a car bomb.

McGill, on the other hand, groaned. "What? They been learning from the Irish?" he asked.

Severus turned away and smiled. _Thank you, Irish car bombs_, he thought. For the rest, he heaved a sigh. When he turned around, his face showed only anger. "Avery, pull your men back. Bella, find Logan. He is to Apparate away immediately with his men. Go!" he shouted.

Bella jumped up, and Severus covered her and Avery's retreat. When Avery made it back to the rear guard, he called out "Retreat," and his own guard moved backward at the pace of the slowest, firing as they went to offer cover. When the last of his men had Apparated away, he allowed himself one last look at the town. Buildings were burning and there were only three bodies lying in the streets, none of which wore Death Eater insignia. Smiling ruefully, he Apparated away to report to his 'master'.

**-oOo-**

Albus stood atop the bell tower in Norton and strained his eyes to make out the movement of the Death Eaters in the darkness. It took him only a moment to find the commander. His rank insignia was hard to pick out but a wave of his wand revealed the gray skull with two stripes crossing above it. It was such a dark gray that one had to be fighting in close quarters to see it, unless one was upon a bell tower, casting charms to help sight. Albus watched with curiosity as the man threw himself behind a large oak tree. He tried to make out what the man had planned so he could warn Moody, but before he could discover the man's purpose, a car blew up between him and the opposing commander. As the heat rose to his position, he leaned back. When he could finally see past the smoke and debris, another car exploded, and then the man was running back behind the cover of his forward line. Albus frowned as the Death Eaters began to retreat. The last thing he saw before they were gone completely was the commander standing between the trees of the forest on a hill, looking out over the town. Then he was gone, and Albus let his own eyes wander to what the man had seen before he Disapparated.

The north end of the town lay in ruins. As he scanned the streets, he noticed only three bodies in the streets, all of them Aurors. This night could have been much worse. Not for the first time, he sent a silent thanks to the person who had sent him the warning of this attack. So many could have died tonight if not for their being prepared. And it would have been a large strategic blow in the war effort.

But as these thoughts went through his head, he wondered at the commander of the attacking Death Eaters. Perhaps Riddle was getting desperate. From his vantage point up here, he had been concerned about tonight. There were too many opportunities for a clever commander to break through, even though the town had been warned in advance, no matter what Moody said on the matter. No doubt the scarred Auror would be crowing and fit for a party now, but Albus stayed in his position and stroked his beard in thought.

He had seen many battles with the Death Eaters and heard many intelligence reports on their organization. He didn't believe that they were all that useful but every single one of them agreed on a few facts, one of which was that there were only two captains and four lieutenants. The commander of this operation had clearly been a lieutenant if his insignia was any indication, which made him only one of four … one of four of Riddle's most trusted and talented commanders.

He could not imagine Tom sending any but his best for a mission such as this. And there was something familiar about the man's movements, his confidence and style as he strode back and forth across his line, issuing commands and engaging the Order. It brought to mind several other battles that Albus had taken part in, back when the Order and the Ministry had been far less successful than they had been recently. He searched his mind for the memory but couldn't place it. He didn't even know why it bothered him, but deep down he knew that this lieutenant was far more competent than he had shown tonight. Albus rose from his position, cursing the cold that had settled in his joints. He had an appointment with his pensieve tonight.

_**Dark Lord's Camp**_

"Someone must have warned the Order, my Lord," Severus ground out between clenched teeth as he knelt before the Dark Lord. His anger was palpable. The other three lieutenants were already gathered around the throne and the two captains stood beside the Dark Lord himself.

"Rise, young Severus," Voldemort said. Severus did so at once, throwing off his subservience as though it were merely a cloak as he had always done before his 'Lord'. He met the Dark Lord's eyes.

"And so you believe we have a traitor?" Voldemort questioned.

"We must!" Severus spat. "How else could they have been so prepared? The buildings were empty, I tell you!"

"Calm yourself, Severus," Lucius said from the side. The Malfoy heir enjoyed the rank of captain even though he was too valuable to use in battle. He ran the other side of the war: the war of deceit.

Severus took a deep breath. To all in the room, it looked as though Severus was prepared to go out into the camps, find the traitor by torture if that's what it took, and kill him personally. He was one big walking glare, and the anger seemed to crackle around him with dark energy. But deep inside where even the Dark Lord could not tread, there was a party in his brain, complete with raucous laughter.

"I would sooner slit my own throat than stand in the presence of a spy!" he spat.

"Severusss," the Dark Lord hissed. That one word was enough to stop him in his tracks. He bowed his head.

"I apologize, my Lord," he mumbled from behind his hair.

"It is not you that will be sorry, my Snake," Voldemort said with fondness, though Severus knew it to be false. Then the Dark Lord swept his arm out. "I charge you all to find this traitor and bring him to me alive. Severus, I will give this fool to you when we have him. I know that you will do what is best with him. And you will do so before all of my hosts," Voldemort said with a sickening smile.

Severus allowed his own smile to form, and it was one that would send a chill down the backs of all but the Dark Lord's inner circle. "It will be a pleasure, my Lord," he said as he swept a low bow to Voldemort.

_**Dover**_

When Severus finally made it home that night, he dropped into his chair and stared at the empty fire grate for a long time. "I am doing the right thing. I am a weapon now, and weapons do not have doubt. They do not have fear," he whispered the last sentence to himself softly. But if that was the case, why did it hurt so much that his men had been injured in this battle? Why did he want to cry out as he bandaged their wounds? Why did the terror of discovery claw at his heart? There were no answers in the cold hearth.

_**Hogwarts**_

Albus sat at his desk and stared at the pensieve for several moments. He had just dumped his memories of several battles in there, along with the most recent, but he had yet to delve into them. Why did he delay? What did he think he would find there? The truth was, there was likely nothing to be found except perhaps learning a little more about how one of his enemies fought. That was, of course, a good enough reason. With that thought, he dipped his wand into the pensieve and dove into his own memories.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Author's Note: **My thanks to fussbudget for beta-ing this story!

_(edited 10-Oct-2007)_


	2. Chapter 2:  One of Four

**Chapter 2: One of Four**

_Hogwarts_

When Albus came back out of the penseive, he stared at the bowl for several seconds trying to gather what he had just seen. He had placed seven memories in there, not including the one of that very night. Seven memories and of those seven, he was sure that in at least four of them, he had been watching the same lieutenant that he had seen tonight.

The first three had been painful reminders of the days not too long ago where every battle had ended in death and defeat. The lieutenant had been there in those three earlier memories, shouting orders, walking the line, and laying devastation on the Order and ministry both. He had been too busy in battle to ever notice the man and the insignia was really hard to make out on the man's shoulder. Only those of his own men fighting near him could see it and only those who answered to his voice knew to take his orders above all others on the field.

Why had he not seen it before? This man was competent, dangerous, and deadly. It was more than just his skill alone, though that was a large factor; it was his ability to maneuver his men in the most advantageous positions. Albus had a pained moment of wishing that he had this man on his side.

The next memory in chronological order had not featured this man. It had been one of Riddle's first attacks against an unprotected muggle village. Albus thought nothing of the fact that the mystery lieutenant had not been there. There were, after all, presumably four lieutenants and already Tom seemed to be using this one more often than the others, at least in the major battles.

The next memory in his pensieve had been the fourth with the lieutenant he was looking for in it. He had had to watch it three times before he had been satisfied. The first time, he saw immediately that it was the same lieutenant. It was something about the way he seemed to both stalk and glide across the field, the way he moved within shadows when pushing forward and then came to the fore when giving orders. It was also the way he held his wand, as though it were merely an extension of his hand, and the way that he stood silently, slashing his wand hand this way and that and wreaking havoc. The man seemed on top of his game that night. But this memory was different from the others in one aspect that Albus saw in that first perusal. It had been a victory of sorts for the Order. None of them had died and two of the Death Eaters had been captured. The target had escaped and the collateral damage had been at least somewhat contained. That had not happened in any of the other memories of this lieutenant.

Albus had great confidence but he was no fool and he did not underestimate his enemies. That man was made for battle. He was a competent commander, an imaginative strategist and a deadly foe. The battle had not started out that well for the Order. As always, they had been responding and trying to keep up with their foes, who had the advantage as always, of picking the time and place. So the question begged to be asked; why did the man fail to win the day entirely as he had done so often before?

After the second perusal, Albus had still been perplexed. Perhaps there had been a few maneuvers that the man could have done that would have swayed the battle, but it did not seem strange that he had missed them. Everyone was entitled to mistakes in battle and his mistakes were simply not being able to see the small opportunities as they presented themselves. Even Albus had to go back through the memory and examine it to see them. That was battle though; hindsight was 20/20. But during the second look, Albus had caught something out of the corner of his eye that caused him to view it a third time.

And there, in the third look, he saw it. The lieutenant had barely raised his wand from his side and said nothing at all, but it could only have been him that set that barn on fire; the barn that had been providing cover for his own men. The only reason Albus even suspected him instead of one of his own was because the man had been looking directly at the barn both before and after the explosion and his eyes did not register surprise until he turned them to his second in command and issued an order.

Albus pulled back from that memory and immediately went to the one of that very night. He walked through the street, past the cars parked along the street, unconcerned about the heat of the explosion he knew was about to happen. And there, quick and without a word, he saw the man's wand dart out from behind the tree just before the first explosion. He had to stop the memory and stand at a different angle to watch the second explosion. He could barely see it past the burning debris, but he thought he saw something flash from behind the tree again. He moved closer and stopped the memory. This time, he was practically on top of the man when he darted out from behind the tree and spelled the second car to explode. He watched in a kind of daze as the man stood from his place, blood dripping over his dark mask, and threw himself behind the barrier with his men. He was still in a daze as he saw the man's eyes scan the town for a moment before he Apparated away at the end of that night. This time Albus could see the grim smile on the man's face.

When he left his pensieve, Albus sat at his desk for several moments mulling over this information. Somewhere in his office, a clock chimed and he jumped up from his chair and began replacing his memories quickly. No, it would not do for anyone to see these memories or even suspect that he had seen the need to view them. Then he sat back down and absently twirled a pen in his hand.

That battle, when the barn had been burned, exposing the Death Eaters, that had been…what? Six months? Seven months before he had received the first letter from his mystery informant? It had been about that time too, that the Order had begun to see more success. It had been gradual of course. More often than not, the battles had resulted in stalemates. Could this man be related to that? Could he be related to the letters? The letters that he had now been receiving for three months? Was this man, who was without a doubt one of the four lieutenants, the man that had been helping them?

It made a sort of sense really. The letters were never long and never included extra details, but they were always accurate. Who but a man of high rank would be able to report these things with such assurance? Who indeed? Albus racked his brain for some other clue to this mystery but could find no other. It was possible, he supposed, that he was wrong. But it was also impossible to neglect the evidence he had seen in the pensieve of this man's actions. They were so subtle, so impossibly careful and yet, for all that, opportunistic. Albus felt a smile curling on his own face at that thought. This man, whatever his purpose, was incredibly talented. He would not dismiss the idea that the man had some other motive behind his actions but he could not help but be delighted that the direct consequence was a benefit to his side of this war effort.

But that thought caused him to frown. Yes, it was a great benefit. Great indeed. Far more so than any other strategy he had used thus far. Of course, an inside source would be able to affect the greatest changes. But that was incredibly dangerous work; dangerous and lonely. Terrifying even. Why did this thought make him sad all of a sudden?

Albus knew his own mind. He was not empathic, not really, but he did have more than his fair share of empathy. Even for the enemy. In fact, it was for these souls that he often caught himself feeling the most compassion for. This man, this lieutenant of Tom Riddles, he must gain the sympathy of Albus' feelings for both the Death Eaters and his own men. He was irrevocably tied to them all, after all. Caught in the middle. Although, Albus cautioned himself, he should be careful to not make too many assumptions about this man's actions. He had seen the man's ruthlessness in previous memories after all. Indeed, he had been the recipient of the least of Albus' compassion in his earlier memories, merely because he had been the cause of so much of the damage. But, Albus thought to himself uncharacteristically, what had that damage been exactly?

He pulled together a list of the man's crimes in his head. The man was guilty of winning his battles. That was not a cause for guilt in and of itself. But the man had allowed no quarter in those early days. But then none of the Death Eaters had. Of course, Albus thought ruefully, it was easy to say that the Order and the ministry were above such cruelty unless one remembered the dementors. Most prisoners had been sent to a cell and given a personal dementor guard. But some had already been kissed. Albus grimaced.

He did not approve of that; no, not at all. In fact, if a Death Eater was caught, they were not given a trial. Apparently the very fact that a dark mark was on their forearm was admission of guilt enough. Could that then be seen as the ministry and consequently the Order who turned their prisoners over to the ministry, giving no quarter as well? Seen in that light, the circumstances seemed a little different.

So what else was the man guilty of besides success and ruthlessness? He served Tom Riddle for one. Albus frowned. That thought always made him sad. How many had been wooed to the Dark Lord's side and how many could he have prevented by saying something, anything, while they were here under his control? He had no doubt that he had been the Headmaster or at least an instructor to most of these fighters. After all, Tom's army was made up of a large number of young men and women. Albus buried his head in his hands.

Which young man was the lieutenant? He had to be relatively young. On the battlefield, he was filled with a great deal of youthful energy. Fascinating that he would then also be filled with a large amount of battle wisdom and dueling skill. So who of his students that he suspected of joining the Dark Lord were capable of such daring and talent? There were many, especially in Slytherin. He shook his head. They were, without a doubt, a very talented group of students indeed. He had been a fool to not cultivate that skill. But then, the Slytherins did not take well to being cultivated. That was the crux. The Slytherins responded to power, fear and knowledge. They never responded to obvious manipulation by a man that they knew would not threaten them, not like the Dark Lord.

This lieutenant had to be between 17 and 30 or so. But he could not believe that Tom would allow a young man just out of school to lead men and women, not unless that person had proven themselves spectacularly. So perhaps not fresh out of Hogwarts. Albus let his mind tread back to the glimpse he had gotten of the man behind his cracked mask during that night's battle. It was hard to tell at night, but he was sure the man's eyes had been very dark. That narrowed it slightly. The man's hair had been dark as well, and long, pulled back from his face. He had been tall and thin but powerfully built, if his athleticism on the battlefield was any indication.

But of all of Tom's people, who would turn on the Dark Lord? Who would have enough disdain for authority? Who had enough daring to not be scared into obedience? Who of those he had taught would have the guts, the anger and the skill to go against his master? And why?

Albus' breath caught in his throat. No, surely not! For some reason, an image of a dark young Slytherin swam behind his eyes unbidden. A memory of four years ago, of a boy standing in his office and daring to yell in his presence. A boy who seemed almost righteous in his anger. "Severus," Albus whispered softly into the darkness. "Where are you right now my boy?"

With hands shaking, Albus put his wand to his head and let a silky, ethereal strand of memory fall into the pensieve that sat empty on his desk. He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat and stared at the memory that swirled in the bowl. An image of an angry young man swam to the surface, a young man with dark eyes and dark hair. Albus leaned forward, transfixed by the intensity of the boy's eyes and the memory of that painful day. And then he was falling through the memory.

When he landed, he saw himself sitting behind the desk in his own office. The view outside the window showed that it was early spring and bright outside. His memory self was sitting behind his desk, looking over some paper; he couldn't remember now what he had been doing and he didn't particularly care. That wasn't what he was here for. He stood and watched himself for a minute and then, as expected, the door burst open and an enraged Professor Slughorn entered, dragging a young Severus Snape by the ear. Albus stood back to observe.

If the grip that Slughorn had on his ear hurt Severus, he didn't show it. He seemed entirely unconcerned with any punishment either. Slughorn pushed him into a chair roughly and then turned to stand before Albus, who had yet to do anything but raise an eyebrow.

"Headmaster, this student has just engaged in a muggle fist fight with another student. That student is now in the infirmary. He also attacked two other students. Mr. Lupin was petrified and Mr. Potter was bound in ropes. I suggest his expulsion!"

Albus watched as something dangerous flashed in Severus' eyes, but neither he nor Slughorn had noticed it, as they were engrossed in their own conversation.

"Which student is in the hospital and what is the damage?" Albus heard himself ask.

"Sirius Black is in the hospital with a probable broken nose, maybe a broken rib, a black eye and a busted lip. That boy," he snarled, pointing to a seemingly unaffected Severus, "is solely responsible for these injuries."

Memory Albus peered at Severus for a moment, making eye contact but learning nothing from the boy's manner. Finally he turned to the red faced Professor. "Professor, if you will excuse us, I wish to speak with Mr. Snape here. Could you make sure that Mr. Black comes here when he is finished in the infirmary. If he is up to it of course."

Slughorn looked like he was considering saying more, but finally relented and spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. The two remaining occupants sat in silence for a minute or so. Albus remembered that he had been waiting for the boy to speak in defense, but the boy remained stubbornly silent. In any case, it was he that finally broke the silence.

"Mr. Snape, why were you fighting Mr. Black?" he settled for asking. Time had taught him that questioning Severus Snape required a great deal of patience and attention.

"I think you know why," Severus said without any change in expression. Nor did his voice betray any emotion. It was, to him, a fact, and he spoke it thusly.

Albus responded immediately in a stern voice. "I want you to tell me Severus."

Severus leveled his eyes on Albus'. This time his voice was harsh. "Because he intended to kill me."

"And what was your purpose Severus?" Albus said more softly.

"To punish him." The harshness was gone from his voice. It seemed he had recovered his cool composure once again.

"Mr. Snape, it is not your place to punish Mr. Black. He is already serving two months worth of detentions for his actions. Nothing is required from you."

Severus gave no reaction at all. His eyes stayed fixed on Albus'. He neither seemed to think more explanation was due, nor did he apologize. Albus could remember feeling frustration at this point.

"You do not think this enough?" Albus asked impatiently.

For a moment Severus looked towards the window, deciding on the appropriate answer. When he looked back, he leaned forward in his seat to speak. Albus watched memory Severus intently. What had been in the boy's eyes? Severus Snape rarely had to think too long before answering. "Perhaps it would be enough if I had not been injured. Or perhaps it would be enough if Black were sorry for his actions rather than his failure. But that is not the case. No Headmaster, you're punishment was not enough for me. My punishment is more appropriate, more personal and I am now satisfied."

Memory Albus leaned back and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Then you are not sorry for your actions at all." It was a statement, not a question. Severus did not answer.

"What extent of damage did you hope to inflict on Mr. Black?"

"My intention was to hurt Black, not kill him. As I already stated, I am satisfied."

"And how do you think I should respond as Headmaster Severus? You deliberately, coldly even, plan and execute the injury of another student; what do you think is appropriate?" Albus flinched from his accusation of coldness, remembering what was to come very shortly in this memory. He leaned back and continued to watch Severus closely.

Severus smirked at his memory self. "How about two month's detention?"

Memory Albus rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "You never make anything easy Severus," he said softly.

Severus leaned forward, a calculating look in his eyes. "I was under the impression, Headmaster, that adults were supposed to make the lives of their charges easier, not the other way around."

Albus' eyes snapped up to Severus' and he stared at him for a few moments as though searching for something. Finally he rested his arms on his desk and leaned forward. He had been searching actually; he had been searching for accusation.

"Severus, if I understand the situation correctly, Mr. Black could have been seriously injured. You attacked two other students too. Surely you see the seriousness of this situation. It was so public. The whole school will hear about it by breakfast."

"Then you should be thankful that they will not hear about my real reasons," Severus said with a very serious expression.

Memory Albus narrowed his eyes. "So, more blackmail?"

But Severus was shaking his head. "No. We made a deal. It had nothing to do with this. If anyone finds out about that, it will not be I that told them. I was merely stating a reason to be thankful."

Memory Albus sighed and present day Albus noted the sincerity in Severus' features. "I do not understand you Severus…" He was about to go on but Severus interrupted him.

"You are not meant to." He said this with such finality that both present day and memory Albus looked shocked for a second.

He had decided to take a different approach. "How is your research Severus?"

Severus gave him an appraising look, as if he knew this game and he wanted Albus to know that it wasn't going to work. "It is going well. I have not had much time for it, but I have high hopes."

"That is good. And your father; what does he say about your talents? Does he intend to buy you an apprenticeship?"

Severus' face darkened at the mention of his father. "I do not know what he has planned."

Albus did not miss the dark look, either then or now. "I have considered inviting your father here to discuss the recent events."

Severus leaned forward. Nothing in his manner gave the impression of desperation, yet as Albus watched from the corner he could see it in the subtle clenching of a fist, the engaged look in his eyes. "Just what do you think my father would do if he heard that I was almost killed by a werewolf? In fact, I imagine that if my father **were** here, he would have quite a bit to say about that. No Headmaster. That would not be wise at all."

Albus had picked up on something then and he still did not know what it was. "Severus, how do you and your father get along?"

"What, are we going to discuss my home life? Trying to see if my criminal mind can be traced to a cruel father or a mother who didn't hold me enough?" the boy said with a sneer.

Albus gave him a stern look. Even now, he frowned. "Just answer the question Severus."

"My father and I get on well enough I suppose."

"What does that mean? Do you see him often?"

"No, not often."

Albus was even more curios now, but he knew that he had never gotten any answers from the boy. "How does this make you feel Severus?" he had asked.

At first Severus rolled his eyes, but when Albus gave him another stern look, he sighed. "I do not give it much thought, Headmaster. My father and I only see each other in the summers, as you are well aware."

"Hmm. I have not heard from your father for over a year. I hope everything is well?"

Severus' expression did not change and Albus had been watching for it this time. "I assure you Headmaster, his affairs are well looked after."

Memory Albus let that line of questioning drop. "Severus, you must be punished for your actions."

"I understand sir."

Albus gave him a curious look. "Yes, you always do understand." Present day Albus shook his head. He knew where this was going.

Severus inclined his head. "One might think that you accept the consequences before you even take an action Severus."

Severus smirked a little. "I am a Slytherin, sir. I would be a poor one indeed, if I did not consider my actions and their consequences before acting."

Memory Albus gave him a searching look. "But you do not believe in these House stereotypes.

"But you do. And so do all the houses. Their belief makes it true."

"And so you act this way because you are a Slytherin?"

"No. I do not act. I am this way."

Memory Albus smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "I wonder Severus, what consequences would halt you in doing what you want to do? Where is your limit?"

And here it comes, Albus thought to himself. He could not bring himself to pronounce it undeserved either.

Severus was not smiling when he responded. He looked angry, perhaps even angrier than Albus had remembered. "I assure you Headmaster, that the consequences of my actions are not the only factors that I consider before acting. You would paint me as black and assume that only dire repercussions would still my hand. What have I done that is so bad that you would think of me like this? Because I punished Black? I can assure you that my mercy is greater than his."

Memory Albus blinked and present day Albus let his head drop a fraction but did not take his eyes from Severus' face. "Severus, you misunderstand…"

"Do I?" he asked in his deceptively calm voice. "Tell me then Headmaster. What do you think my limit is? What do you think would stop me from doing something regrettable?"

"Severus," Albus had said in warning.

But again, Severus broke through his words. "Expullsion? Azkaban? Death? Surely not something as noble as morality. I see it in your eyes. That righteous sadness when you look at me, as though you can see my whole life spread before you. And you don't like what you see, because you think I have no morals. I'm just a sneaky, heartless Slytherin to you."

"Severus!" Albus had moved to his feet.

"No!" Severus was on his feet now too. "You won't answer my accusations. You'll say I misunderstood. I understand a lot Headmaster. I know what's happening. Can you say the same? When was the last time you looked at your students? When was the last time you let someone walk out of here, shaking your head, thinking to yourself, 'It's just another hopeless case? What house was that person? Where are they now? Do you know? Do you even care?"

His voice raised a notch. "Because you should care! You should look to your flock or someone else will!"

His accusation and his warning cut through the air of both the room and Albus' heart in the present. Albus stood, staring at the boy before him as though in shock. Present day Albus knew that he was, then and now, thinking of many such students, and wondering what he should have done. Chief among them were Tom Riddle. But he surely hadn't expected Severus to understand that back then. Still, he had gotten a clear message from Severus that day. 'Look to your flock', indeed. Present day Albus dropped his head.

Albus still hadn't responded in the memory, so shocked he was by Severus' outburst. In the silence, Severus' voice spoke again; softer, calmer. "You think we are all dark. But darkness is not just a state of mind Headmaster; it can be a state of living too."

Albus observed him quietly from his corner. Had he failed Severus too? He had not meant to. Indeed, there had always been something about Severus Snape that had drawn Albus' eyes in the Great Hall. But what had he ever done about it?

Memory Albus was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. Schooling his expression and sitting back in his chair, Albus called, "Enter."

The door opened and in walked Sirius Black, with a black eye, a busted lip and a bandaged nose. He looked around the office and when he spotted the other occupant, he directed his best glare towards Severus. Severus merely watched him, making no change in his facial expressions.

Albus cleared his throat and pointed to the chair furthest from Severus. "Have a seat Mr. Black." Sirius may have been the wronged party in this altercation, but Albus' voice showed nothing but displeasure at seeing him again so soon. Present day Albus searched Severus' face for some indication that that had satisfied him, but he sat stonily.

"I see that you do indeed have a broken nose, black eye and busted lip Mr. Black. Do you have any other injuries?" memory Albus continued. Sirius shot another glare at Severus but shook his head no.

"Well, in that case, I suppose all that is left is to assign punishment." Looking at Severus, who met his eyes without fear, he said, "Mr. Snape, for starting an altercation and causing physical damage to a fellow student, you will serve three weeks of detention with me."

Sirius made a strangled sound that drew Albus' eye in both times. "You have something to say Mr. Black?" Albus asked archly.

Sirius looked like he did, in fact, have something to say about that, but he wisely held his tongue and shook his head no. Of course, Albus had known even then that that would not last.

"Very well then. I believe we are done here. I will warn you both to keep yourselves out of further trouble. Mr. Snape, you will report here at 7 PM tonight."

Severus started to stand while nodding his head in acceptance, but Sirius, who had jumped to his feet, distracted him. Severus reached his arm into his sleeve to feel for his wand but stopped himself from pulling it out. Neither of these actions went unobserved by Albus, who in memory also rose to his feet to stand glaring at a very angry Sirius Black.

"That's it? I got two months of detention for less damage than this," he practically yelled while waving his hand over his face, "and he only gets three weeks?!"

"Sirius Black!" Albus said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You will refrain from raising your voice in this office. And yes, that is exactly the case. Congratulations on your grasp of the situation. To answer your implied accusation, I would suggest you consider that while you were both injured between the two cases, only one of these instances was spawned by the intention to cause great and permanent damage. I suggest you think long and hard about what the consequences of your actions may have been for **all** of the involved parties of your indiscretion. You may just find, Mr. Black, that I was perhaps, too lenient on you. To rectify my mistake, I am assigning you a ten-foot essay on werewolf injuries, werewolf regulations and a very detailed account of every possible outcome of your actions for all parties involved, which you will revise until both Mr. Lupin and I are satisfied with it. Now, go to your class."

One thing could be said for Sirius Black. He did indeed look very sorry as he left the room with his head down. Severus on the other hand merely rolled his eyes, which Albus saw, gathered his book bag, and started walking towards the door. He got a few feet from said door when Albus' voice called him back.

"Severus?"

"Yes, sir?" he inquired, turning to face the desk again.

"I will expect you in my office at 7 PM. Do not forget."

"Yes sir," Severus said with no expression.

Memory Albus' eye twitched for a second before he adopted a lighter tone and look. "And Severus? Do stay out of trouble."

Albus flinched from his own idiocy in saying that after the spectacular anger directed at him from Severus for just this sentiment.

Severus grinned nastily as he replied, "I shall try, Headmaster. Luckily for all my would be victims, there are consequences to my actions that I must consider." With that he spun around and continued toward the door.

Albus looked weary from his position behind the desk and present day Albus felt sympathy for his past self. "Very well Severus. We will discuss this later. Good day."

"It already has been," Severus answered as he walked out the door.

The memory ended as Albus sank into the seat behind his desk and Severus closed the door 'firmly' behind him.

When the memory ended, Albus was deposited back into his seat. He sat unmoving again, thinking. Severus had very dark eyes, black eyes actually, and long black hair even then. Did he still have long hair? Did he keep it tied behind for battle? Did he move with deliberation and determination in his step? Oh yes, that was without a doubt, Severus Snape on the battlefield. The boy had been top of his class in more than just potions. He had, in fact, been top of his class in defense against the dark arts. And Albus had wondered even then, if he wasn't the top of his class in the dark arts. Who but Severus could keep his expression neutral even in intensely dangerous situations? Who but Severus could act well enough to save his very life and the lives of others?

And Albus could remember very clearly all of a sudden, just why it was that his eye had always been drawn to Severus Snape instead of so many other students, on both sides of the spectrum. Even then, Severus had seemed a walking contradiction to him. He couldn't clearly remember when he had realized it, but he had. Severus walked through the school surrounded by the children of Death Eaters even though he himself was a half blood. He doubted that any of them knew that though. Severus would have been too clever to mention it. He had seemed the archetypal dark wizard in training, always quick with a sneer or a witty insult. And he had been accused of knowing more dark magic than any seventh year when he had entered Hogwarts.

Albus knew that to be false, but it had not been entirely unfounded. Severus had been caught in the restricted section exactly one time, quite a bit less than other students actually. But Albus had long suspected that Severus had been there many times and managed to evade capture. After all, Severus had come to his attention by the very fact that he did not succumb to anyone's authority. He never apologized for his actions either, merely took his punishment quietly.

But Albus had had time to see a different side of Severus. He had had to look closely to see it and had he not already been interested in the boy for various infractions, he would have missed it entirely. But Severus, for all his dark reputation, had a surprisingly bright soul. He had helped Argus fix a prank played on his cat during a detention once, thereby earning the respect of the caretaker, something no student before or after him had ever done. And when Severus had discovered that Argus could not read, instead of the two of them being at odds and the whole student population finding out, Severus had somehow gotten Argus to agree to lessons during Severus' frequent detentions.

Albus shook his head. Those were not the actions of a Death Eater in training. Severus had to have known even then that Argus was a squib, something that the purebloods of Slytherin and most other houses looked on with disdain. Oh how he wished he had paid more attention then.

And that wasn't all either. Even though he had been livid about the incident with Remus Lupin and the shrieking shack, he had agreed to keep it secret. Of course, it had come with a price, but it had been one that Albus had been willing to pay. Let him use a potions lab for research with the understanding that Albus could and would drop by any time he liked to monitor his work. And what had Severus Snape done with it?

Three months before graduation, his friend from Holland had sent him a letter congratulating him on having such a talented student in his flock. Two hours later, he had sat himself down with a copy of the most recent _Potions International Journal, _and there on the very cover, was a picture of Severus Snape holding a goblet of a steaming potion. The journal entry had been 15 pages long and had been written by Severus himself. In it, he had presented his work on improving the Wolfsbane potion. All that, after nearly being mauled by one the year before. He had read on further to find that Severus had not accepted any funds to release his findings to any individuals; instead, he had accepted one large sum from the journal he had been published in, to disclose his formula exclusively in their journal. Since it was an expensive subscription, the journal had more than made their money off of that deal and Severus had accepted a slightly smaller fee so that all subscribers were able to brew it. That would, of course, include any werewolf or pack that could afford the subscription. It also had the benefit of ensuring that potions makers had to be at least a little competitive with their prices. It still required a master to brew it though, because it was so complex.

And there was the last fact he suspected simply because he had never had Severus dragged to his office to be sent to Azkaban. Albus did not doubt for a second that Severus knew the dark arts. That, in itself, was a small crime. But he had never actually used it at the school, always sticking to the common charms and curses. There were times that he had seen Severus seething with rage. Yet Severus had never once been accused of using the dark arts, even though everyone in the school thought that he did know them. And Albus would have known if he had, for the castle itself could feel the difference. It was not so much of an alarm, as the castle was neutral. Rather, it was a residue in the walls, something that happened in a building made to absorb the excess energy of hundreds of young wizards. It was not a leeching effect. It was more like a damper. They released more accidental magic than they thought they did. The castle, to a certain extent, dampened it, keeping the inhabitants safe except in the cases of extreme emotional turmoil. No, Severus had controlled himself even though Albus knew for a fact that to do so in the face of the power of the Dark Arts was difficult indeed. There was something, then, to be said of Severus' humanity and restraint.

He could not say with certainty that the lieutenant was Severus though, nor could he say that he was the same man that sent the letters. No, he couldn't say for sure. But he knew it was true! He knew it in his heart. He knew it like a father knew his child. He knew it like a teacher knew his student. He knew it like a commander knew his counterpart.

Severus Snape, for reasons likely known only to himself, had joined Tom Riddle. He had somehow risen in the ranks and become a fearsome lieutenant in less than a year and a half. And then, for some reason, Severus had turned against his master and he had done so carefully and effectively, and likely alone. And then, somewhere between seven and five months after he had turned, he had decided to send a letter to Albus himself.

Had he needed help? Was he living in fear? Where was he even now? Albus was elated and terrified; happy and angry. And he was sad. He could not approach Severus; it would be far too dangerous for the young man. And he may be incorrect. He didn't think he was, but if he went to Severus, it might implicate the lieutenant that had been helping him. But he just knew that the lieutenant was Severus. It was the hair, the mannerisms, and the intensity; but most of all it was the eyes. It was something of their depth. It was something that spoke of strength and anger and exhilaration, something that had always been in Severus Snape's eyes.

Albus sat back and rubbed his temples. A man who walks his own road walks a lonely road indeed. More than anything, he desired to see Severus Snape. And more than anything, he could never approach him; not until Severus came to him, if he ever did. Albus sighed as he felt a pressure in his chest. A lone tear slipped down his face. Severus had survived thus far and that was a great testament to his skill. But how long could he maintain it?


	3. Chapter 3:  He Lives Not Long

Chapter 3: He Lives Not Long Who Battles With the Immortals _Dover, December 24th_

Severus stood in the shadow of a sweet chestnut tree looking out over the white cliffs of Dover. The moon rose high over the English Channel and he imagined that in the light of day, he might be able to see across the channel to Cap Gris Nez.

He felt like he belonged here. He always had. The soil here was so thin and the winds so harsh and full of sea salt, that only the most hardy of species could survive here, but survive they did. Plants sprang up from the soil with exuberance, birds nested in the cliffs, protected from the winds by white rock faces as they fed upon the abundance of insects and sea-life. Every summer, Severus had come home from school and felt the same way. He felt as though he had died during those long winter months at Hogwarts and only began to live again as he picked his way through the cliffs and found a hidden outcropping to read a book. Solitude and beauty: that was what the white cliffs were to him.

And the history of the cliffs was inspiring. Just miles to the west would be the Dover castle, and underneath that castle would be the tunnels that had lain hidden and used to house English soldiers since the Middle Ages. Just 50 years ago, Admiral Ramsay had set up shop there to rescue some 338,000 French and British troops under constant attack by the Germans; an event of such bravery and human compassion that only the coldest person could not be moved by it.

And Severus could feel the magic in these cliffs. He wondered whether the muggles could feel it too. They had many stories about the white cliffs and he thought that perhaps it was more from a feeling than from the beauty. The white cliffs of Dover were a signal to all of Britain's citizens that they had made it home. Severus' grandfather, whom he had never met, was said to have knelt on the beaches of Dover with his entire company upon returning home from war and wept from the joy of seeing the beautiful cliffs of Dover. And Severus felt it every time he came home too.

He had actually grown up for many years in Bradford, in the middle of England. When his father had lost his job at the mill though, his family had packed up and left for Dover, where his father had hired himself out as a ferryman. Severus had left Hogwarts in his first year with a note in his hand instructing him to switch trains and take it to the south coast of England. And when he had ridden that train along the coasts of Dover and under Shakespeare's cliff, he had felt he was coming home for the first time in his young life and it had nothing at all to do with hearth and family and all to do with the wild nature.

Tonight, Severus stood atop the cliffs looking out at the English Channel and for once, even the beauty of the moon over the water could not lift his mood. Ten months. It had been ten months since the Dark Lord had ordered an attack on an unprotected muggle village. And in those ten months, he had done so again on six different occasions. Only twice had Severus been able to provide any warning to the man he knew for a fact ran the Order of the Phoenix.

He dropped his head and felt the rough bark of the tree he was leaning against. What an amazingly stupid thing he had done. Only he couldn't decide if that stupid thing was joining the Dark Lord in the first place or deciding to destroy his army from the inside out. And for what? A bunch of ignorant muggles incapable of protecting themselves? But then, his father and his father before him had been muggles.

Severus crossed his arms and sighed. And in those ten months what had he accomplished? He found himself thinking on this more and more often, breaking it down into a list that became a sort of mantra. He needed to believe he was making a difference. He needed to believe that it was right. It didn't matter that it was far from easy or that it was dangerous. He could live with that. If he was honest, he even enjoyed it sometimes. And there was something exhilarating and hilarious about complaining to the Dark Lord about…himself. No, none of that mattered. It only mattered that it was effective. In the last ten months, he had swayed no less than fifteen battles and outright caused devastation in at least three of them. He had sent warnings to the Order eleven times and each time the target had escaped or the town defended with varying degrees of success. And in that time, he had personally seen to the death of four Death Eaters.

Yet, in that same time span, he had watched how many be tortured? 6? 7? He had seen two wizarding villages leveled, although the inhabitants had escaped with their lives. He had brewed 37 batches of poisons and wizard warfare chemicals. He had held one child as he died from wounds that the Dark Lord's werewolf allies had caused.

He had done that tonight actually. And because he had no idea from where the child had come and no way of finding out that wouldn't be suspicious, he had brought the child's body to the white cliffs and buried him facing the Channel. Perhaps, he thought with anger, it would not hurt so much if he could just stand before the Dark Lord and duel him, maybe even kill him. But the closer he got to the man…creature, the less sure he was that the Dark Lord hadn't taken steps to become immortal. That thought did not stop him in his goal. But it did slow him down. This Dark Lord was not the first to seek immortality and not even the first to be rumored to have it. Where were those others now? That thought alone kept him from running away from the sheer magnitude of his task.

But on nights like this, when his soul hurt from the carnage, he could feel the weight of impossibility settle in his heart and he wished more than anything that he had someone he could confide in. He had traveled as far as Bulgaria to chase leads in his search to destroy the Dark Lord and Apparated back just in time to answer a summons with no magical energy left, and still he had no idea what the Dark Lord had done to himself.

He believed himself to be brave, but not stupidly so, like the Gryffindors. Still, he could feel the fear clawing at his mind more as each day went by. There were so many chances to make a mistake and lately, with the Dark Lord being more careful, he had had to take great risks. Last night had been the first night that the Dark Lord had blamed him for a failure. He had known before the first curse hit what was going to happen. He had seen other commanders suffer the same fate more than once. But never had he displeased the Dark Lord to such an extent. It would get worse from now on too. He had been the last commander that had suffered through the Dark Lord's wrath and he knew from watching it, that it only got worse. Every failure would come back to him. And still, he would fail. He would do so purposefully. And all it would take to sign his death warrant was just one of his soldiers to see him step out of line.

Last week, the Dark Lord had cursed Jones until he could no longer stand and then when he was revived, did it again. The result had been a quivering mass of flesh that no other Death Eater was willing to help for fear of the Dark Lord's wrath focusing on them. The man's own family had disowned him that night in the hope that the man's failures would not reflect on them. And so Jones had died from neglect on the outskirts of the camp. Not that he would have been of much use if someone had taken pity on him.

Severus had wrestled the urge away that night, telling himself that Jones' life wasn't worth it when he had so much work to do. But he felt the guilt of Jones' death. It had been his sabotage that had caused Jones to fail the last two times and before that, he had alerted the Order for at least three of the man's operations. He didn't always feel this guilt. In fact, he usually felt no guilt at all and instead, felt the bright fire of victory in his heart with each soldier's fall. But occasionally, one would fall that he had liked.

The true tragedy was that Bellatrix had stepped into his place as a lieutenant. Such was war. Severus shrugged. Perhaps he was cold. His conscience showed itself occasionally, but it rarely lingered and never returned for one event more than once. After all, he still retained the reputation as one of the Dark Lord's most ruthless commanders. But that had been back when they had been fighting trained Aurors. He had needed to fight, needed to exercise his anger against the world that had scorned him and told him that his talents were evil. That was a far cry from senselessly terrorizing noncombatants. There was no honor or exhilaration in that. There was only the loss of one's humanity.

No, tonight his melancholy was from a mixture of fear and uncertainty. The only way to end this war was to kill the Dark Lord and he just had no idea how. It was maddening. More and more, he had to still his hand when it was just he and the Dark Lord. Every nerve in his body seemed to want to throw an Avada at the creature, but he could not waste his shot, not when it was so unsure. No one had ever lived through such a curse, but the question begged to be asked, where would the Dark Lord's soul go when it left his body? The thought that he would rise the next night like some sort of intelligent Inferius and return with vengeance on his mind stilled his hand every time.

Severus kicked a rock over the cliff. Was he reduced to meaningless actions of anger against unoffending rocks now? He took one last look at the Channel. It was unnecessary since he had already committed to memory the view of this place in all seasons and light but it was as sentimental as he could afford to be. There was work to do tonight; plans to discover, operations to sabotage, potions to brew, research waiting. He left the cliff and didn't look back as he Apparated away.

_Hogwarts, December 26th_

Albus stood facing the window in his office. The Christmas feast last night had been festive and light, despite the war raging in the rest of Britain. Despite the fact that he was so involved in the war, it was nice to be able to come back to Hogwarts where he protected his children, somewhere the war could not touch. He smiled as he saw the last of the students, many of whom had stayed in the castle at their parents requests due to safety, racing to make it back inside before curfew. Their various winter pursuits dotted the landscape: snowmen and forts and snow angels. He didn't realize he was drifting off in thought staring at a snow fort until he heard a hoot and saw a dark brown owl swooping through the snowflakes. It was heading for his window.

Albus rushed to open his window but the bird beat him and stared at him balefully from the sill until he managed to get it open. When he took the envelope from the bird, the bird nearly took off a portion of his fingers. He chuckled as he scolded the bird and reached into his drawer to give it a dead mouse. After summoning a bowl of water for the owl, he sat back and looked at the envelope in his hand.

His heart rate quickened as he recognized the handwriting. It was his informant. "Severus?" he questioned softly, as though expecting the note in his hand to answer, "Yes, it is I." And then, because he had an overactive imagination and remembered Severus well, his mind produced another string. "Now open me you doddering old fool, before you miss your chance. What is the point of sending these if you're just going to stare at them with disgusting sentimentality?"

He couldn't help the curve of his lips at that imagined conversation, even as his stomach dropped at the knowledge that this letter always preceded a battle. He carefully opened the letter, although why he bothered when he was just going to burn it he didn't know. When he finally got it open, his eyebrows rose in astonishment. This was…unexpected.

There were only two lines on that parchment, but they seemed to say so much.

"_He lives not long who battles with the immortals." But I wonder, Headmaster, would you say he was a fool or would you recommend a good book?_

_Sincerely_

Albus let the parchment drop to the desk in surprise. Never had this author ever asked him an opinion. It was almost like a confidence. Call him a fool or recommend a book. Did he really mean, am I doomed to fail, or is there hope? If there is hope, then where do I turn to find it? The subject was obvious. It had to be Tom. And this confirmed some of Albus' fears. This man that wrote these letters was both careful and close to the Dark Lord. Severus or not, he would know far better than any of his own intelligence reports whether there was truth to the rumors that Tom had taken steps to become immortal. So what did it mean that he was looking for answers? It must mean that he either knew for a fact that Tom was but had no idea how to act, or he was relatively sure that there was something that Tom had done and did not know what that was. Either way, he was clearly turning to Albus for answers. Albus frowned and looked back up at the bird. The bird had finished drinking and was staring at him expectantly. There was another first. The bird was waiting for a reply. But what to reply? Meet me? Not likely.

He sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk. No, he would not call this man a fool. Far from it. And he would never say that Tom was invincible. There had to be a way. No man or woman was immortal. Some were just harder to kill than others.

Albus reached for his quill and jotted down a few book titles that he had read on the subject. He had no doubt that the man had already read them, but it couldn't hurt to show that he was taking him seriously. The truth was, he really needed to be able to speak with the man without the danger of interception that post had. Still, he didn't think he could manage that. Perhaps it was better that way for the other. But in the end, unless the other man found something on his own or had a confidante with some knowledge of these things, he would not get far. Albus sighed.

_Sincere,_

_Dreams are immortal. Men are not. Nor are any creatures that roam this world or any other. Rather, immortality is the word we give that which is difficult to destroy. If you have but one dream that does not stem from the wish of everlasting life here on this earth, then you are more immortal than those you would battle. No, Sincere, I would never call you a fool. I would however, recommend several books. But then, a man who is not a fool and has a goal has already done his research before he consults his peers. So I would ask you, in what way may I make your burden lighter? I await only your command._

Albus sealed the letter and placed anti-tracking charms on it then handed it to the bird. "Get this to your master quickly my little friend. And guard it with your life for you surely guard his by doing so." The owl hooted softly but held its head proudly. Albus watched it take off into the sky and then burned the letter 'Sincere' had sent him after reading it one last time.

_**December 27**__**th**_

"A man who sees his friends roasted on a spit tells all he knows," Severus said from the shadows of the campfire.

He had been standing in the shadows for a while now. Perhaps only the Dark Lord even knew he was there. Nagini had slithered past him earlier and he had run a hand down her snout. He was listening to the Dark Lord question some of Jones' soldiers about the attack that had failed. They were not, themselves, under suspicion. But one of them had already displeased the Dark Lord with his inattention to details and received a stinging slash across the face. At a lull in the conversation between the Dark Lord and his advisors, he strode forward into the firelight and spoke.

"You think so Severus?" Voldemort asked.

"I know it my Lord. But I also know that a man who sees his friend roasted on a spit also bears a grudge. Not to mention what it does to morale." His eyes flicked to the soldiers standing at attention. They looked nervous, as they should be. They had failed as well. They were all failing, perhaps the Dark Lord most of all. But it trickled down these days.

The Dark Lord eyed him as he strode past the soldiers. "Question them then Severus," he instructed while motioning the other commanders to step back.

Severus nodded. Each one of the soldiers eyed him warily, as they should. He was not predictable, that was what they knew. But they also knew that he protected those under his own command; that he never allowed another to take the blame for his failed missions. Except in the cases where he could report that only a mole could have caused it. He bypassed the youngest soldier. He would have been too high on battle to see anything. He stepped past Witherspoon; he was not nervous and so had nothing to tell. But, ah, this one, the one in the middle, he knew something; nothing important, nothing that would help the Dark Lord, but perhaps enough to end this questioning.

"You," Severus stopped before him and pointed at him. "Step forward."

Severus backed up a step as the man took a few halting steps forward. "Sir?" his voice cracked. Severus smiled slowly.

"Why did you fail?" he asked the man.

The man swallowed and licked his lip. "Sir, I don't know."

Severus circled him once. "I think you do," he whispered. "Why did you fail your objective? You saw something did you not?"

The man's eyes shifted nervously but he nodded once. "What did you see?" Severus stopped right before him. "Tell me!" he barked out. The man jumped from the change in his tone and took a deep breath.

"I saw enemy combatants sir." Severus rolled his eyes and the man took a hesitant step forward.

"No sir. I mean I saw them before we attacked. I tried to get to Lieutenant Jones, but I couldn't; not before he called the attack."

Severus' eyebrows rose. "You saw Aurors before the attack?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Only I thought it was supposed to be a secret mission sir. So I tried to get to the Lieutenant but I couldn't. And then the battle started and I didn't have the time to do anything but fight."

Severus looked at the Dark Lord and he nodded for him to continue. "Where were the Aurors before the attack? Were they hidden?"

"Yes, sir. I wouldn't have seen them at all except one of them was wearing something shiny and it caught the light. They were inside the forest sir. I reckon they were there before us."

"Were they now?" he said slowly. He turned back to the Dark Lord, crossed his arms and cocked his head.

"Very well. Dismiss them," Voldemort said lazily.

When they were gone, Lucius spoke up. "What do you make of it my Lord?"

"They were warned."

Severus fought to keep his eyes from rolling. "My Lord, if I may." At Voldemort's nod, he continued. "The question is how much warning did they have? We can narrow it down with that knowledge."

Voldemort considered it. "Bring me the maps Bella," he commanded.

Severus watched the new Lieutenant rise from her place and scamper off. He had a feeling that she would become annoying quickly. What was even more annoying than her was the Dark Lord though. He could win this fight even with Severus set against him if his own soldiers weren't too scared to come forward with information. They should have heard about this days ago. Not tonight, after Commander Jones had been left for dead and after the memory had time to become unfocused. And even if they had had to wait to call a hearing of sorts like they just had, the soldier with information should not have feared to have just stepped forward and speak. But Severus would say nothing on that score. If the Dark Lord wished to hurt his own chances by scaring his men shitless, so be it. Severus was amused, to say the least, that the others around this fire never learned from his example and manage to question anyone effectively without raising their wands. Why then, did he have the reputation of being ruthless? _Oh yeah_, Severus thought. _There were a few instances that might make them think that_. He suppressed a smile.

When the maps were brought and spread before them, Severus and the others got into a heated debate about how much time the Aurors would have needed to prepare for this attack. They had been positioned in the woods already so they definitely knew before the Death Eaters made it. "I am telling you," Severus said hotly to Rabastan. "They could not have found out through wards and positioned themselves so quickly." Severus had a moment of doubt as he spoke. Why was he doing this? Shouldn't he be arguing that it could have been something other than a mole? And yet, it placed him above suspicion; made his job harder, but put him above suspicion. And as long as no one on the other side knew it was Severus, there could be no danger of loose tongues.

"You think they were warned far in advance?" Bella asked with a sneer.

"No. I believe they were given no more than a half hours warning. We should be wary. They have proven quite capable of responding in force with only a moment's notice and with some degree of organization. It could have been anyone in the camp watching Jones' force preparing."

"But they would not know what the objective was!" Rabastan said hotly.

"Wouldn't they?" Lucius asked. "It is an easy matter, to question your comrades before they leave."

And here was the danger, Severus thought. If the Dark Lord began to keep orders secret from even the soldiers fighting before they reached their objective, the suspicion would move up the chain of command.

"That is, perhaps true, but unlikely. Jones' group was unaware of their ultimate destination already. They only knew enough to know what type of battle they could expect. The Aurors would not have responded with such force if they weren't absolutely sure of the target. They responded after Jones' men Apparated I tell you. Jones arrived at the boundary at least a half hour in advance of the attack."

There was silence after Severus said that. He waited with bated breath. Take the bait, he thought at them. Think it's one of Jones' soldiers; one who could communicate from the field. What possible benefit was this? When the Dark Lord suspected the common soldier, he would use them less or give them too little information to fight effectively. How much easier would his job be when he could say that his battles were lost because his soldiers were unprepared and untrained?

The Dark Lord stood from his seat with a glower. "I want our soldiers searched before every battle. No exceptions! Anyone with a means of communication is to be brought to me immediately."

The rest of them stood and began to Apparate to their homes after acknowledging the order. "A moment, Severus," the Dark Lord said.

Severus calmed his nerves. It wasn't always bad when the Dark Lord wished to speak with someone alone. There was no reason to suspect that it was anything damning. He bowed his head and followed the Dark Lord into the trees. No, if the Dark Lord suspected him, he would want the others there to make an example of him. This was most likely a confidence. Severus smiled behind the Dark Lord's back. What a fool!

"Look at this," the Dark Lord held a copy of the Daily Prophet out. Circled in dark ink was a job posting.

Severus looked up with surprise. "Potions Master at Hogwarts?" he asked incredulously.

The Dark Lord nodded. "The current one is retiring." Severus noted the sneer in his face. There was something the Dark Lord did not like about Slughorn and Severus could not fault him. He himself absolutely despised the Head of Slytherin. The man cared about the rich or popular far more than he did the students in his own house, unless of course, they were rich as well.

"And you would like me to apply for this position?" Severus said with dawning realization.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "You are far more clever than your peers my Snake. To lose your expertise in battle will hurt me greatly, but I will call on you from time to time to fight even if you are successful in this endeavor."

Severus sucked in a breath. "My Lord, you cannot believe that I will be effective as a spy there. It is far removed from the war, as well as the Order."

"Yes, but not removed from Albus Dumbledore. I want to know where he goes, who he meets, what he knows." Severus did not like this idea at all.

"My Lord, I will do as you ask, but if I may speak freely." The Dark Lord nodded. "I feel it necessary to say that I…I feel that I am not right for this position."

"Nonsense Severus. I have chosen you because you would be the best. No one moves unseen as you do. No one thinks as quickly."

Severus swallowed. "I believe I would serve you better on the battlefield my Lord. And he is not likely to trust me." The Dark Lord waved that away.

"You are one of my best Severus. But, it is clear to me now that my strategy needs to be revised. I will focus on Lucius' efforts. Our strikes will be more focused. I grow weary of this full-scale war. We will wait to use the forces until the time is right."

Severus stared at the Dark Lord in growing horror. This could not be happening. He could not go to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was not afraid of Albus Dumbledore per say. Rather, he could see the line of time stretching before him. He would lose the initiative. And he would become suspect, being closer to the enemy as it were. No matter how the Dark Lord spoke of his trust in Severus, the closer he got to the enemy, the more cautious the Dark Lord would be, if only to prevent Severus from being questioned under Veritaserum and leaking information.

"My Lord, I do not think the Headmaster would consider me. I have not gained the title of Master."

"You are a Master!" the Dark Lord interrupted. "Even Albus Dumbledore knows that. Does he not know of your accomplishments in the field under his very nose while at school?"

"He does my Lord. But he will not trust me."

"Then he will want to keep you close. And you will make him trust you."

Severus could see that the Dark Lord would not be swayed in this matter. "I will attempt it my Lord."

"Do not be discouraged Severus. You will still have a good half-year before this post begins. And consider what you could do there. You could sway the war from Hogwarts."

Severus nodded with his heart in his throat. "I will apply tomorrow my Lord."

"Very good. And Severus." Severus turned back to look at him. "It is very important that you get this position."

"It will be done My Lord."

Severus Apparated away and immediately, his limbs began to shake. _This isn't happening. This isn't happening. I cannot go back there. I cannot do a thing from Hogwarts_. He allowed himself a moment of weakness, but only a moment. No, he must do this. He had little choice beyond open defection. And it would change so much but he would have to adapt. He would just have to adjust his strategy. Perhaps he could spy even when he was not supposed to be at the Dark Lord's camp. After all, he knew all the Dark Lord's men and they trusted him, at least when it came to the war. Yes, he would just have to adjust.

And there was always the possibility that Albus Dumbledore would not hire him. He would suffer for his failure, but it would be worth it.


	4. Chapter 4:  Measuring Lives In Numbers

**-**

**Chapter 4: Measuring Lives In Numbers**

_**-**_

_**December 28**__**th**_

Albus had been waiting for an answer to his letter with trepidation for two days. Had the letter been intercepted? Had Severus scoffed at his note? Albus smiled. It would be so like the boy he remembered to roll his eyes at the letter. "Yes, thank you oh great and powerful Dumbledore. These books cost only galleons in Knockturn Alley. I'm sure I'll find my answer there!" Albus let loose a chuckle at his own mind. He was imagining conversations between he and Severus, and quite accurately if he did say so himself. Though to be fair, he was operating on his memories of a sarcastic teenager alone.

He caught himself looking at the window more and more often as the night grew. Would it come tonight or never? Would the next note be a warning about an attack instead? He had not been idle these last days and had poured over the restricted section of Hogwarts as well as his own personal library. There were many theories of course. The question was which one Tom had based his work on and how much farther he had gotten. He was quite the genius after all. Without more information, all he could do was prepare himself for any possibility to be of use should Severus wish to share his findings.

He was now quite certain beyond just his own feelings that Severus was the lieutenant in those battles. He had gone back through several memories of him at school and compared them to the man with the rank insignia on his shoulder. He could not say with certainty that Severus was also sending the letters but he was at least sure that the two were related. In the last month, he had engaged the Death Eaters three times himself, and once he had been sure that Severus had been there. When he had reviewed the memory, he had been sure that the presence of the Order had not come as a shock to the Lieutenant. So either the Lieutenant was sending the letters or he knew of them. But he could not reconcile the image of Severus working with another in this dangerous task with the boy he had seen at school.

While he thought of these things, another owl came to his window. This one was a light tawny color. He took the note and did not immediately recognize the handwriting. Checking it for jinxes, he opened it and began to read.

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster Dumbledore: _

_It has come to my attention that the post of Potions Master will be vacant in the near future and I formally wish to apply for the job. Attached are my credentials and published articles, which you will find include many Master's level research articles. _

_I've no doubt that in filling this position you will take into account a person's registration with the Potions Master Guild. At this time, my application is pending, but it is likely that I will bear the title of Potions Master before the new term begins. _

_Please send your reply by post to 11 Ramsay Court, Dover, Kent. I await an interview at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Severus Snape_

Albus stared at the name at the bottom for several breathless minutes. Was this a code? No, his informant would never send one with his name on it. And the position would be vacant soon. He had even considered Severus back when Slughorn had handed in his notice of resignation. But he had felt the need for caution had outweighed his desire to get Severus to come to him. He knew it was dangerous to trust an unknown source without some kind of insurance, but he could not endanger his informant, nor the lieutenant who was sabotaging Voldemort's army. It was too great an advantage. He had so very few of them as it was. This enemy was far too mobile and well hidden to take the fight to them on his own terms. He would have to settle for reactionary warfare. But at least he had a hope of being prepared for the fight with this man out there.

The letter was very formal. There was no way for Severus to know that Albus suspected him, careful as he was. This must be Tom's idea then. Send a spy to watch him. Albus chuckled. This was just too rich, too much like a story. But he would have to be careful, he reminded himself. He did not believe he was wrong, but he was not infallible. Severus may not be the man sending the letters after all. Albus shook his head. He just knew that he was though. At any rate, a few off the wall phrases would tell him what he needed to know, unless Severus still wished to keep him in the dark.

He penned a quick response stating that he would be pleased to offer him an interview at his earliest convenience as he was eager to fill the post and the lack of qualified applicants was frustrating to say the least. Would he be amenable to an interview Friday at teatime?

He sealed the parchment with the official Hogwarts seal and sent the letter off. He had been very careful to sound formal lest Tom read the note. Nothing in it gave any indication that Albus thought anything more of the application than what it was. He wondered though, did Tom Riddle think him so foolish as to not suspect Severus Snape when he saw him again? Severus had been a friend to confirmed Death Eaters while in school after all. Albus tapped his chin. What was Tom up to?

_**-**_

_**December 29**__**th**_

**_-_**

It was cold; the kind of bone deep cold that made you stomp your feet and wave your arms just to keep the blood circulating. But Severus Snape was a wizard. He didn't need to stomp and wave, he merely cast a warming charm on his clothes. It was a good thing that he wasn't moving around wildly too; if he had been, he would have drawn much unwanted attention to himself. He'd been hiding within a copse of trees for nearly a quarter of an hour now, waiting for the signal to attack.

The night's assignment was nothing short of an assassination; a new sort of mission for Severus to be given. The man in question had been one of the writers of the newest muggle protection bills; and for that, tonight he would die. As would his family. A shiver that had all to do with discomfort and nothing at all to with the cold ran up Severus' spine. He may have had a change of heart in deciding to fight against the Dark Lord, but he still had an image to uphold if he wished to keep his position. And keeping his position was of the utmost importance to him. He was honest enough with himself to admit that much of that stemmed from his wish to survive. But an equally large part of him desired it for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc on the Dark Lord and his plans.

It was becoming difficult though. He could act better than most Shakespearian stage veterans, but he could never ignore the deep disgust he felt at what he had been ordered to do.

_No. Admit it. You've been ordered to do it, but you, and you alone, will be responsible for your actions this night. _When he had been given the order, he had balked at the suggestion that the entire family needed to be killed. Should not the children be spared to show that while the Dark Lord was not to be trifled with, he also had mercy? But like a father explaining the ways of the world to an errant child, the Dark Lord had explained that this would silence the proponents of a new bill up for vote more thoroughly than any other action would. Severus had to wonder if that were true. There were times that the Ministry and its officials took a zero tolerance stance to terrorism and other times when even the strongest caved. It all depended on the level of the threat. And Severus had to admit; the level of this threat would be a hefty price for any of them to pay.

He had immediately begun to plan the best counter to this attack. And not for the first time, he had realized that there was no plan that would work. The Dark Lord had sent Bellatrix with him, presumably to be trained further. And more, the Dark Lord's orders had been quite clear. Allow no time for the family to react. Get in, assemble the family and kill them all, then leave the Dark Mark for all to see. If he had had time to send a message, perhaps the situation would not be so dire. But there had been no time. He had Apparated directly to the coordinates from the Dark Lord's presence with a few of his more talented (read brutal) men and was now merely waiting for the signal that Bellatrix and her people were in position.

And now, the only options left to him were either open defection followed by death (though he would at least go out fighting), or following the Dark Lord's orders. For a moment - just a moment - he considered open defection. But even if he did survive, where would he go? And would that save Mr. Pengerth and his family? Or the next family? Or the next?

He had told himself when he had made his decision that there would be times that he would just have to grin and bear it, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. He had joined the Dark Lord as a soldier, prepared to kill Aurors and combatants in a cause that he believed in. Assassination of children was a far cry from what he had been promised. Still, at this juncture, as he did every time he came to a fork in the road like this, he mentally ran through a list of what he believed to be the number of lives directly affected by his actions. If it outweighed the list of wrongs committed by him did that matter to anyone beside him? Should it?

Severus resisted the urge to sigh. Nothing would ever outweigh what he was about to do. _Nothing. Ever_. This sin he would take beyond the grave. Even more so because he was completely cognizant of how very wrong it was. And he knew, he just knew, that someday someone, perhaps only himself, would ask him why he had done it. And his only response would be that he had believed it needed to be done for some indefinable greater good; that he had measured lives only in numbers. And that would never be ok.

A small flash of light from a copse of trees to his left signaled that Bella was in position. This was his last chance to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the smart thing. Everyone was waiting on his order. He could belay that order and destroy any resistance. This was his last chance to do the right thing.

He rose from his position and signaled the attack. From here on out, there would be no turning back. From here on out, there would be no mercy. Even as his heart and nerve and sinew begged him to stop what he was doing, his mind viciously registered the freedom that that one decision had given him. If there was to be no turning back, then every action that brought him closer to victory was to be taken. If there was to be no turning back, then he had better stand back and watch the bridge he had just crossed burn. And it burned violently that night.

Severus cast the killing curse once that night. It had felt like a mercy killing when he had seen the pain in Albert Pengerth's eyes. But even if it hadn't been his hand to kill Mrs. Pengerth and her two teenaged sons, it had been he that allowed it; he that had ordered it.

As he watched the realization of his children's deaths in Albert Pengerth's eyes, as he heard the man's wife screaming for mercy, as he stood and incanted the Dark Mark over the house of the dead, he knew then and there that part of his humanity had died with them. There would be no burial for his lost humanity though. There was never enough time to mourn. And he did not deserve it; not for this. He couldn't even muster the depth of emotion to hate himself.

_I did what I had to do_. It would become his mantra for many nights after that one. It would be the last thing to run through his head as he fell asleep and the first thing to come out of his lips as he woke up sweating and chilled from his nightmares. And he would never believe it, because he was smart enough to know that in the end, he could have made the choice not to, and said to hell with the consequences. He could have done the right thing.

_**-**_

_**January 2**__**nd**_

**_-_**

Severus scowled as he ran a hand down the front of his dress robes. This was ridiculous yet almost tragic. As tragic as he thought anything that is; which meant that is was a large difficulty for him and his goals. Severus rolled his eyes. Who was he fooling with that sentiment? It was best not to fool oneself. He had seen tragedies; ones that had moved even he. Not more than a week had gone by since he had buried that young boy. Not more than a few days had gone by since…

No, this was not a tragedy. But it was a great setback with the potential to become very bad for him. After what he had done, there was nothing that he wouldn't do to win this fight. If he had to commit acts of terror, then he would at least ensure that they had not been done in vain.

He was now more nervous than he cared to admit that this endeavor would end badly. Now, not only would his goal be more difficult to attain (and it had already been transcending into the realms of impossibility), but also the risk of being caught and sent to Azkaban by Albus Dumbledore himself had multiplied. In battle, he knew the risks. But those were risks that he was comfortable with; risks that were worth it. This, this was not worth it to him. Nothing he learned here would help him. He had no doubt that gaining the Headmaster's trust would be near to impossible and even if he did, what would he do with it? If the Dark Lord found out that he had, he would be expected to report more information and that would be devastating.

Severus ground his teeth. He would just have to not get the job. Oh, he would try, at least well enough to be able to report just that. But he was good at this. It was after all, what he did in every battle. _I'm sorry my Lord. Everything was going well, or so I thought. I failed my Lord, and I humbly beg your forgiveness._ That was just how this was going to have to go down. Severus nodded to his image in the mirror.

When he Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, he sneered at the sprawling castle. Happy or reminiscent were not the words he'd use to describe his feelings at seeing Hogwarts again. Irritated, unimpressed, perhaps even a little hurt, were far closer. Scowling, he raised his wand and whispered "Invocatio Custos." He waited impatiently for several minutes for the Keeper of Keys to answer his summons. _Ah, Hagrid._ There was a face he was not sorry to see.

"Hallo," Hagrid called out to the figure standing at the bottom of the hill behind the gates. "Sorry it took me so long. Had to come here from the forest." As he got closer, he gave the visitor a closer look. "Young Sev'rus? Is that you?" Hagrid called out with a smile.

Severus let a small smile curve his own lips. "Yes. Hello Hagrid," he called as Hagrid got closer.

"Well I'll be!" Hagrid's grin grew. "I ain't seen you in what? Two years?"

"Three actually," Severus answered. When Hagrid got the gates opened, Severus held out his hand for a shake but was, instead, enveloped in a crushing hug. When Hagrid finally let him breath again, the half-giant was beaming and Severus, after taking a few deep breaths, returned it almost hesitatingly. It had been a long time indeed.

Odd, that he had let himself forget some of the few good memories he had here in favor of the other, less pleasant ones. He frowned at that thought, but Hagrid didn't notice. He was looking Severus up and down and exclaiming that he looked even taller and how he never thought that possible after Severus had grown so much in school. Severus had, perhaps grown a half-inch since school, but he thought that it was more from the way he held himself now than from actual physical change.

"Well, I'm happy to see you 'gain Sev'rus. Though I guess I should be asking you yer business, seeing as it's my job and all," Hagrid said with a blush.

"Of course," Severus said smoothly. "I'm here to see the Headmaster about the post of Potion's Master."

Hagrid's look of surprise quickly turned into one of delight. "Well, I'll take ye righ' to him. Can't say as he could find a better one fer the job though. Won' tha' be jus' great? You, workin' here?"

Severus nodded and answered all of Hagrid's questions politely all the way up to the Headmaster's office. He couldn't help but feel a little sick about the whole thing; walking here with Hagrid, who would likely give him a good thrashing if he knew what Severus had gone and done. For the first time ever, Severus thought he just might understand it too, at least from the gentle giant's perspective.

Severus shook that feeling off. He had done what he had with eyes wide open and believing in his cause at the time. And he at least had the satisfaction of saying that he had done his job well. He would not feel sorry for joining the Dark Lord when he had. It had seemed the right thing to do. And he had quickly changed his mind when he had been asked to fight noncombatants. That was an important distinction to him. It had given him a sense of pride even as he had realized his hasty errors. He was a deep thinker, but on this score, he would not allow himself to tread the waters of guilt. A soldier does what soldiers do and at least he had never, without at least attempting to right the wrongs, engaged in an act that would go against the moral obligations of a soldier. _Until five nights ago_, his conscience supplied. _Put it out of your mind, you fool. You did what you had to do._

With that thought to bolster his courage and resolve, he followed Hagrid into the Headmaster's office.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting serenely behind his desk as Severus approached behind Hagrid. Something in his stomach did a flip but he suppressed that feeling quickly, lest he give anything away. When his eyes met the Headmaster's, he was surprised to see a flash of joy and…relief? in the old man's eyes.

"Mr. Snape," Albus said warmly, standing to shake Severus' hand. Hagrid beamed at the two of them. "Well, I'll be leaving if ye don't need anything Headmaster. It was great to see ye again Sev'rus. Don' be a stranger now."

Severus nodded weakly but managed a smile as Hagrid took his leave. When it was just he and Albus in the office, the Headmaster offered him a seat and he took it stiffly.

"Well Severus," Albus said with a pleasant smile, searching Severus' face for anything at all. "It is good to see you again. It's been too long."

"Thank you Headmaster," Severus nodded. He let a small smile curve his lips but it did not reach his eyes. He knew that would be overdoing it anyway.

"Come now, you're very nearly a Master of your own field Severus. Though I think you have been, if not on paper, then at least by merit, for some time now. I think it's appropriate that you call me Albus now, don't you?"

Severus nodded slowly. "Thank you Albus," he said equally slowly. Albus suppressed a chuckle. His name sounded like a foreign word on Severus' tongue.

"And so, you're here to apply for the position of Potions Master," Albus said with good humor. It was all he could do to not jump up and embrace the young man before him. If his suspicions were correct, and he very much believed they were, even more so once he had gotten another look at Severus after so many years, he very much wanted to exclaim how proud he was. Instead, he kept himself seated and watched for an opportunity to confirm all of his suspicions.

"I am sir. I understand that Professor Slughorn wishes to retire and I would welcome the opportunity of working at this prestigious institution in his place."

Albus smiled at Severus' formality. "Yet, when you left, I recall that you were in a hurry to be quit of this prestigious institution," Albus said gently.

Severus almost smiled. How could he use this to NOT get the job but make it look like he had tried? "I was, indeed, in a hurry to leave," he replied. "But I found that I missed this place more than I had thought I would." He said it in a deadpan voice and knew that Albus Dumbledore would see it for the lie it was.

"I see," Albus said softly. He did see it for the lie it was and more, he knew that Severus intended him to see it. What could that mean? He was not sure. More than anything, he wished he could be candid.

"And so," Albus said with more gusto. "What have you been doing with yourself these last years?"

Severus smiled nastily and said sarcastically, "Oh, I've been attempting to stay out of trouble. You know how difficult that can be, with the current situation being what it is." Severus was remembering the very same memory that Albus had reviewed a few months ago. "But, I have managed some research in my field and I have been preparing for the potion guild's mastery test." Both Severus and Albus knew that Severus would have needed little preparation to take that test even back in school, despite the fact that so few could manage to pass it without a long apprenticeship and many hours studying. Severus resisted grimacing. He would have to be creative when he let the Dark Lord view this memory. When he didn't get the job, the Dark Lord would accuse him of trying not to if he saw this memory.

Albus frowned. "Yes, indeed. The situation now a day is difficult to say the least. And you have always had a fond disregard for authority." Albus was careful to temper his words with a fond smile. It was not faked.

Severus frowned at him. "Yes, well, about my credentials," Severus began but was interrupted.

"Severus Snape," Albus exclaimed in mocked affront. "I have not seen you in three years and you just jump to the interview without even getting to know each other again? I'm shocked at you."

Severus smiled slightly in response to Albus' large smile. He could see that Albus wished to speak more, perhaps to gage his responses. No doubt, the Headmaster did not trust him already. _Good_.

"I apologize sir."

"Albus," Albus corrected.

"Albus," Severus continued. "But you see, I never thought we knew each other all that well to begin with." Severus almost winced. What was he doing? This would require so much work to make the Dark Lord not curse him on sight. And he didn't know why it also bothered him when the Headmaster looked hurt.

"It was not for lack of trying Severus," Albus said softly.

Before Severus could stop himself, he snorted. And then he instantly sobered his expression. He did not understand his own reactions when he was with the Headmaster. He seemed to revert back to his sarcastic and uncouth younger version in this room. He had to take a deep breath to remind himself of his purpose here.

"I apologize Headmaster," Severus began only to hold back a glare when he was interrupted again.

"Please, call me Albus. And there is no need for you to apologize Severus. It is I who should apologize to you. Too often, I watch young men and women leave here knowing that they will have battles ahead." He watched as Severus stiffened almost imperceptibly. "But I'm relieved that you have not had that to deal with."

Severus smiled ruefully, relaxing in his seat. "Well, as I said. I have been careful in that regard."

Albus smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. "Ah yes. I would not expect anything less from a mind as bright as yours Severus."

Severus nodded, acknowledging the compliment. "Thank you." Then he went silent. If the Headmaster wished to question him further, he wouldn't help. He had to walk a tight line. Make the Headmaster dislike him enough to not hire him, but not enough to actively investigate him.

"I speak only the truth." Albus went silent for a minute. He was left with a feeling of helplessness. For a man of his age to not know how to approach this situation was ridiculous, but Severus was a difficult subject.

"And so you've been researching potions for the last three years. Most young people your age have not the patience for this work, instead preferring excitement in the more traditional sense."

"Well, I have never been one to pay mind to what the traditional young person would like. Potions are exciting enough for me."

"And yet, you have managed to maintain a strong physique," Albus commented. "I'm happy to see that you have grown into your height. Why, you look just as strong as any Auror in training. But then, I suppose potions work can be trying. From time to time…" Albus trailed off.

Severus frowned as he looked Albus directly in the eye. This was very odd and very far from comfortable. Severus knew better than to take the Headmaster's words at face value in this instance. "Well," he said slowly, "I suppose that my constitutionals have paid off. I have been warned that staying in the lab all day was bad for one's health so I took a friend's advice and started going for walks. I'm glad to see that the change is noticeable."

Albus smiled at Severus' answer. That was quick and quite brilliant. If he did not already know for sure in his heart that Severus was his man, he might have believed that. "I'm glad that you have such good friends, to offer such good advice." He noticed Severus shift his in seat a little. It didn't look like a nervous reaction, but for one who could be as still as Severus, it might just be a sign of discomfort. He decided to follow this line of questioning. "And tell me. Have you seen many of your fellows from school since graduation? I understand that several are doing well for themselves."

"Oh, from time to time," Severus said casually. "I don't get out much as I would like, but I have met some in passing. But then, you know that I always was a loner. I much prefer my potions."

"Of course," Albus agreed readily. "And it is through our work that we gain immortality. That and our dreams," Albus pressed, watching carefully for any sign of reaction. He was not disappointed and he felt his spirit soar as Severus' eyes widened almost imperceptibly and he sat forward just the slightest bit.

It took a moment for him to respond and that hesitation alone was enough for Albus to know for sure that this was his man, even though he had known all along in his heart. "I suppose that is true, to some extent," Severus said slowly. Then he said, almost too rapidly to be normal, "But I have never heard that sentiment myself."

"Have you not?" Albus questioned with a knowing smile on his face that made Severus' own smile falter. "Oh well. It is just a bit of wisdom I've picked up over the years. I have observed that only _fools_," he stressed that word, "and knaves believe otherwise. Why, I'm quite certain I've read similar quotes in many books. I'm surprised that you're not familiar with the idea though, being such a great reader as you always were."

Severus sat back with apparent ease. "Well, I have never concerned myself much with the idea of immortality. The very idea is ludicrous, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. I suppose it is. But there have been many in the past that have attempted to achieve it, so clearly, not all share your sentiments. It is a difficult notion to combat but one which must be."

Severus shrugged. "I have no desire to have anything to do with any of that. As you said, many have in the past and failed. Still, they put up a great fight. I should like to avoid fighting in my lifetime if at all possible."

Albus smiled lightly and affected an air of scholarly interest. "Yes, I suppose that is the best stance to take in these cases. It is far safer than any other at any rate. And I believe it was Homer that said, "He lives not long who battles with the immortals, nor do his children prattle about his knees when he has come back from battle and the dread fray." Surely, that is good advice to live by."

Severus stilled in his seat. This was more than just Albus toying with him or being preoccupied with the subject. He looked directly into the eyes of the Headmaster and saw the Headmaster searching him for traces of recognition. Panic began to claw its way through his chest but he pressed back with equal ferocity. He could barely think with the blood pounding in his ears, but he forced himself to not lose control of the situation. He could not give himself away, not least because he had no idea what Albus Dumbledore had in mind for the author of those letters. This was almost surreal. It was happening to someone else. _NO!_ Severus calmed himself quickly and congratulated himself that his face had remained stone still, although perhaps a little too still.

"That is a sensible position," he said softly, his brain working feverishly to place himself on firmer ground.

"Yes, it is," Albus agreed. "A very wise and good man quoted it to me just recently as a matter of fact. But this particular friend has always been full of surprising insight."

"Then you are lucky in your friends as well," Severus said in a stronger voice. No matter what Albus Dumbledore suspected, he must rebuff all attempts to draw him out, at least until he could gage the Headmaster's purpose.

"I am," Albus agreed solemnly. "But, I have had very little time these last years to see much of my friend. I suppose he is busy as we all are, but I have never missed him as much as I do these days. To have a confidant, a trusted friend, is a great comfort indeed."

Severus knew that something like pain had flashed in his own eyes at that thought. Yes, he could not agree more.

Albus did not miss the quick look of pain in Severus' eyes. Perhaps he was pushing too much. But he needed to hear Severus speak candidly, perhaps for both their sakes.

"Yes, I suppose that would be a great comfort." He stopped. He didn't know what else to say and that was a first.

"Yes, it can be," Albus said earnestly, softly. He knew that both of them knew the subject that lay between them and the only thing left to do was break the silence, but he could not do so himself. It had to be Severus. He would be happy to break the silence if the young man merely gave him a small symbol of willingness.

Albus went on. "To have someone to confide in can make even the heaviest of burdens feel lighter. To be understood, ah, that is a feeling that very few appreciate. I like to think that my friend and I do understand each other in some ways, though not as well as I should like. I would dearly like to bring him the same peace of mind that he has brought me time and time again, especially in the last few months."

Severus could barely move from indecision. He could not say it. He just could not. So much of his life depended on secrecy. For too long had he been silent. His secrets were too large. He could not simply say it. But, oh, the words that the Headmaster was speaking. He could see the man's sincerity and something inside of him, something he had known was there but had always kept firmly bottled, wanted to escape.

How long had he been alone? How many times had he begged the silent Gods for help, for guidance? But to trust this man? If he were honest with himself, he would admit that his grudge against Albus Dumbledore, while understandable from a schoolboy perspective, was meaningless to this war. _No_, he thought with a flash of anger. _Not meaningless, never meaningless_. But perhaps they were not as important as the fact that they were allies and could help each other. _Still…_

"That is admirable," he began slowly, but his voice grew stronger as he spoke. "But sometimes nothing can bring a man peace of mind. In my, admittedly, short experience, peace of mind belongs to the successful or the dead."

"Then I very much hope that my friend is able to find peace of mind through success rather than death. To lose someone with such bravery and goodness, that would be a tragedy and I fear, my peace of mind would be shattered for a long time."

Severus eyed him for a moment and Albus let him see the admiration in his eyes. He was discouraged when Severus' eyes dropped though.

"I hope you never suffer this loss, though I doubt a mind as strong as yours would be shattered."

Albus stood up, walked around the desk, and stared out the window. "You know Severus. I see so many students go through these halls every year. Every one of them is special, from every house. Every one of them has potential to be great. I have loved them all. I don't always succeed in expressing myself, but I feel it just the same. But sometimes," Albus looked back to Severus. "Sometimes, a student comes to this school that I can't help but care for just a little more than I do the others." He turned back to look out the window as Severus watched him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

"And so," he continued, "I take pains to be closer to this student, to know them better. It is as much for them as it is for me. My predecessor had told me that when I find a child that I think needs guidance and love, and whom I would be honored to be loved by in return, I should make an effort to get to know them. He told me that children responded favorably when they knew they were cared about. But that is not always the case."

Albus stopped speaking and crossed the room to stand directly before Severus. "Sometimes, the world and circumstances seem to conspire against even the best of intentions. And sometimes I fail through my mistakes. I am old but that does not make me infallible. I think, there might have been a few years, when I thought that I knew much more than I did, especially about children. And then I met you Severus."

Severus cocked his head and Albus nodded. "Yes. You see, like so many other students, you came to me for a small infraction of the rules simply because it was a repeat offense. But unlike any other student, you knew your own mind even at the tender age of 11 and refused to apologize for something that, in your opinion, was no one's concern but your own. I have encountered many strong personalities and even many stubborn children. But never have I encountered the mixture of these two traits in such large measures in one so young. But perhaps, I would have writ it off after a while if I had not seen you several more times throughout the year and into the next. Here was a child, who by all accounts, was a prodigy. You angered the Potions Master with your know-it-all attitude in class and angered him even more by the fact that it was entirely deserved, much to the amusement of all in the staff room. You did well in all your other classes, especially defense, where the teacher, at first praised your name and then began to look on you with unease when your knowledge and curiosity seemed to transcend that of any normal 11 year old."

Severus would have been astonished enough as it was that Albus Dumbledore remembered so much about him, but Albus was continuing as though he had given this a great deal of thought. Perhaps he had, Severus thought uncomfortably. No, there was no way that the Dark Lord was going to get a hold of this memory.

"This would have caused me to at least watch your career with interest. And your attitude toward authority certainly caused me to watch over you more vigorously than I would have any other, if only to save you from yourself, though you never seemed to need that. But instead, you represented a walking contradiction to me. I could not figure you out and you would not let me. And every time I tried, you resisted me fiercely, more so than any rebellious child before you. If this had been my only experience of you, I would have feared your morals and your future. But I knew some things that you, perhaps, thought that you were keeping to yourself."

Severus frowned. This was far out of his control and he was starting to get nervous. He considered the door momentarily. If he needed to, could he make it to the door without being caught? He certainly didn't want to raise a wand against Albus Dumbledore, not least because he didn't fancy his chances.

Albus smiled reassuringly when he noticed Severus eyeing he and the door in turn. "You see; I knew that despite the reputation you not only managed to gain, but also encourage, you were in fact, capable of great kindness and profound insight. I knew of your assistance to young Mr. Filch and your shy friendship with Hagrid. I knew of your work on the Wolfsbane potion and was proud when I read your article, although I was sad that you did not feel the need to tell any of your instructors about your accomplishment."

Albus looked into Severus' eyes and for the first time ever, saw something open in them. There was pain, confusion, astonishment, but there also appeared to be hope. That was the reason Albus said the words that he did next.

"And when I saw you on the battlefield, when I reviewed my memories, I knew then and there, that only you could be that competent, that dangerous and have that much of a disrespect for authority to stand against Tom Riddle's." Severus held his breath in fear.

Severus stared at him for several shocked seconds. Then he jumped to his feet, but he remained rooted to the spot. What could he say? What did the Headmaster want him to say? It would be foolish to deny it, yet he was scared now, of the consequences of the Headmaster's knowledge.

Albus moved closer slowly. He was put in mind of a wild Hippogriff and wondered if he should bow before approaching. "I know Severus," he whispered. "I know who you are and I know what you are trying to do."

Severus shook his head as though to deny it, though why he bothered, even he didn't know. It seemed that everything about this situation made him feel less secure than he had ever felt as a child in this office.

"But there is something that you don't know Severus." Albus was glad to see Severus' eyes snap to his. He had thought for a second there that Severus might run for the door.

"And what you don't know is how proud I am of you. What you don't know is that you were one of those bright students that I couldn't help but watch more than any other. You don't know how badly I wanted to understand you. Nor how much it hurt when you left without looking back. And you don't know how my heart soared when I realized that the lieutenant across the battlefield was you, the very lieutenant that was saving my men and fighting his so called Master."

Severus dropped his eyes and looked at the floor. Albus took the final step between them and put his hands on Severus' shoulder. Albus couldn't see Severus' eyes; they were still fixed on the floor. "I have missed you child," he whispered. Severus stiffened just a little, but made no move to pull away or look up.

For a moment, he considered telling Severus to stay here forever and never leave the castle. But he knew that Severus would rail against the very idea as he always did. That he was even still here was astonishing. But then, Albus thought he might know just how lonely Severus was. His was the hardest job in this war and he did it with no encouragement but his own morality. Or at least, he assumed that was the case. He had to remind himself that it wasn't a lie when he said he didn't understand the younger man. Perhaps he was assuming too much.

It was nearly a full minute before Severus broke the silence.

"I…" he started to say, but then stopped. Then he lifted his eyes from the floor and held his head higher. He may have had a moment of weakness, but he could ill afford to let himself become used to such moments. "I don't know what to say to you Headmaster. I don't think I'm the same person you knew, or thought you knew."

"But you are the same man that I've faced across the battlefield. You're the same man that's put himself in harm's way over and over to save the lives of others. You are the man that's been sending warnings in advance of attacks."

"Yes," Severus nodded. "I've seen you across the field. I believe at one time, we crossed wands, you and I."

Albus smiled. He remembered that night. But it had only been for a split second. Severus had yelled orders to his men and danced away once their objective had been met.

"And now what do we do?" Severus asked.

"Now," Albus said in thought. "Now, I suppose we make our plans and straighten our stories."

Severus nodded in relief. Until that moment, he had been considering the very real possibility that if he wanted to leave this school a free man, he would have to fight his way out; a scary thought indeed, but one that he had been preparing himself for nonetheless. He had gone too far to allow himself to be incarcerated without a fight. "In that case, I think it advisable that we come up with a believable scheme where you don't give me the post of Potions Master."

Albus looked taken aback. "Not give you the post? But I had planned to do so. I should very much like to have you here."

Severus looked away for a moment. _I bet you would_, he thought. When he looked back, he seemed even more resolved. "And yet, my position will be much more difficult if I stay here."

"And what of Tom? Will he not be displeased if you fail here?"

Severus shrugged but Albus could tell that there was more to it than that. "He will punish you won't he?" Albus asked sternly.

Severus met his eyes. "It is nothing that cannot be borne. And you may trust that I will be more effective by his side than by yours."

Albus shook his head. "You have been effective. But at what price to you?"

Severus looked shocked. "What price to me? Certainly no price I'm not willing to pay. Do you think I chose to do this lightly?" he scoffed.

Albus frowned. "Severus, I've no idea why you chose to do this at all," he said softly, but without accusation.

That stopped Severus short. "What gave me away?" he asked quickly, realizing that if Albus discovered him, then others could as well.

Albus noticed the look of panic and held his hands out in a reassuring way. "Severus, you have been careful. Only someone who has watched you grow up could have known…"

"I grew up with many of my comrades," Severus said harshly and with no little amount of panic.

"Yes. But they did not sit atop a bell tower and watch an entire battle unfold as I did," Albus answered.

Severus stood in deep thought for a moment. "Norton?" he finally asked.

"Yes," Albus answered.

"But you could not have been so sure just from that. I hope you would not be so sure."

"No," Albus shook his head. "I had to use a pensieve, which as you know, is rare. I've reviewed many memories of battles that I've taken part in Severus. And I compared those to many memories of you as a child. Do you know what memory of you first brought the possibility to my mind?"

Severus shook his head. He had no clue.

"Do you remember the day you got into a muggle fight with Sirius Black?" he asked.

Severus smirked. "I remember that well as a matter of fact."

Albus chuckled. "And do you remember what you said to me that day?"

Severus had to think about it for a moment. "I think so," he said softly.

"You told me to look to my flock before someone else did. Do you remember that?"

Severus nodded. Yes, that was quite memorable. Not the least because he had dared to yell at the Headmaster that day.

"The way you looked that day, it was the same way that you look in battle. Although, in battle, you seem to enjoy yourself more."

Severus flinched but did not back down. "I will not apologize for my actions. Everything I have done, I have done believing it to be right."

Albus leaned against his desk. "I believe that Severus. But you changed your mind about Tom. Why?"

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not really a discussion he wanted to have with anyone. He rather thought that if he began to explain himself once, he would forever be explaining himself. Still, perhaps at this point, it would be best to give the Headmaster an idea of his commitment. It was too late to undo this damage. It was time to benefit as much as he could from this opportunity. "At first, because the Dark Lord ordered me to raze a muggle village. I do not fight noncombatants," he said harshly.

Albus nodded. "That is admirable. And now?"

"And now…now, I can see that the Dark Lord is…quite insane. Evil, I suppose some would say."

"But you don't believe he's evil?" Albus asked, eyes narrowed in thought.

Severus let out a snort. "Evil? What a word! I believe he is an incompetent leader. I believe he is a gifted wizard. I believe he is obsessed with the Dark Arts to the exclusion of all else. I believe he is cruel, needlessly so. But no, I would not call him evil. I would call him certifiably insane with a touch of genius. Dangerous, deadly and insane."

Albus smiled. "Then you are not afraid of him."

Severus looked astonished. "Afraid? Are you mad? I would have to be to not be afraid of him. I said he was mad, not weak."

"I see."

"No, you probably don't. I'm sure you can imagine, but even your imagination can't be that good. Do you know what he does to his soldiers when they disappoint him now?" Severus asked.

Albus did not, in fact, know the answer to that. But the very fact that it had been asked brought to mind a few answers; ones that he didn't like at all. He made a face of distaste.

Severus laughed humorlessly at his expression. "You think you can imagine. Do you remember Quincy Jones? He graduated in Lucius Malfoy's class. A Ravenclaw."

Albus nodded. "I remember Quincy. He was, if I recall, an easy going child."

Severus ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, was is the correct term."

"Tom had him killed?" Albus said in outrage.

"Oh no," Severus said. Albus relaxed until Severus delivered the next line. "He, in fact, killed him personally."

"Why?" Albus asked with growing horror. "How?"

"How? Several curses. I can't remember them all. He would not have died if even one of the Dark Lord's servants had taken pity on him and healed him, though I daresay, he would be in St. Mungos for the rest of his life if they had. But you see, the Dark Lord is so crazed at times, and angry, that none dare stand up to him when he is that way. It was not always this way, but now, he is volatile. Jones is no longer a lieutenant."

Albus sucked in a breath. "Mr. Quincy was a lieutenant?"

Severus nodded. "Quite a good one actually. But you see, he failed too many times. Someone kept warning the Order you know," Severus said with a humorless, knowing smile.

Albus was too shocked by the information to acknowledge those words for a good several breaths. When he did recover, it was to see Severus staring at him defiantly.

"And so Quincy Jones was cursed and left to die for failing to please," he said softly.

"No!" Severus said so harshly that Albus took a step back. "Quincy Jones was killed because I sabotaged his work. He was killed because I said nothing while the Dark Lord cursed him. He died, because no one bothered to heal him."

"Severus," Albus said gravely. "If you think for one second that you are to blame for this…"

But Severus cut him off with a wave of his hand. "It hardly matters Headmaster. What's done is done and it did not affect me greatly. If anything, it's made my job easier. This is war after all." The look that had been in his eyes belied his words, but Albus let it go.

"How has it made your job easier?" he asked.

_In for a penny, in for a pound_, Severus thought. It wouldn't hurt for the Headmaster to know some things about the Dark Lord's organization. In fact, it might help. As long as his knowledge was never traced back to Severus. "Ah, well, I'm sure you remember Bellatrix Lestrange." Albus' face darkened just a little.

"Yes. I remember her well."

Severus nodded at the look in Albus' eyes. "Just so. You see; she is now a lieutenant. I see what you are thinking. She is dangerous; a loose cannon, so to speak. But she is also predictable. And inexperienced."

"She cannot be that inexperienced," Albus said.

Severus smiled. "You speak, I suppose, of her ability to duel. It is true. She is gifted on the field. But soldiers do not trust her. She is too insane. She cares not one whit for them. She will push her way through a battle without thought for strategy. It makes her dangerous, and yet, as a lieutenant, it makes her easy to handle. She has no concept of subtlety. She will walk straight into conflict with a smile on her face."

Albus nodded. "That is a very wise observation."

Severus ignored him to pace the office. "So you see, I cannot leave the camp. To do so would be to lose this advantage."

Albus nodded slowly. "You think there is no advantage to being here then?"

Severus cocked his head. After a moment of thought, he said, "None. None that are not outweighed by the benefit of being close at hand."

"Is that why you never came to me personally?"

Severus frowned. "I think you can guess why I never came to you."

"I want you to tell me." Albus and Severus were both aware of the parallels between those words and the ones that had been spoken on the day Severus attacked Sirius Black.

Severus rolled his eyes, as Albus knew he would. "I did not come to you because of the danger. It was either Azkaban or discovery."

"And you do not fear either, now that you know I know?"

"No more so than before. But if you tell anyone else at all, I will not sleep easy."

Albus nodded. "You have my word, if that's what you need, that I will speak of this to no one."

Severus nodded. "Not even your Order, and yes, your word is sufficient."

"You believed I would send you to Azkaban?" Albus whispered after a moment.

Severus regarded him carefully before answering. "You would not have?" he asked with disbelief.

"Severus. Had you come to me, I would have kept your secret safe."

Severus shook his head. "You would not have believed me."

Albus did not argue with him. He knew that he could not convince Severus. Perhaps it was even true. "And so now, you wish for me to deny your application," Albus said. Severus nodded. "But Severus, have you considered that Tom will not believe that I would do so without some encouragement from you?"

Severus' frown grew. "What do you mean?"

Albus sighed. "I would not deny your application because you truly are the best for the job. In fact, the only reason to deny your application would be if I suspected you. And Tom surely knows that I would want to keep you close at hand in that case."

"He said that. Yet, you did not keep him close at hand when he applied."

Albus nodded. "There are two very significant differences between the cases though. I knew, and Tom knew that I suspected, that he was here to open the Chamber of Secrets and to corrupt the school." Albus ignored Severus' inhalation. "And Tom also knows that I would not make that same mistake again."

"The Chamber of Secrets?" Severus whispered. Albus nodded. Severus had revealed much tonight. It was time he do the same.

"Yes. It has been opened before. Can you guess in whose time it was opened?" At Severus' nod, he continued. "So you see? If I refuse your application, Tom will surely suspect something."

"Not the least because I expressed doubt in this endeavor," he said with a pensive face.

Albus considered him. "You will have over half a year before reporting. Perhaps the war will be over by then."

Severus snorted, but then nodded. "Then I suppose it is decided," he said with some evident anger. "I do hope you are aware though, that I have no desire to become a teacher of any subject. I cannot even promise I will be a competent one."

"I will do everything I can to help you Severus. I will understand if you have difficulty at times. Only say the word, and I will assist you."

"Perhaps you will offer to teach my classes for me?" Severus said with a wry smile.

Albus chuckled. "It can be difficult, but you need not worry. You will have my full support. And you may find that it agrees with you."

Severus snorted in disagreement. He was an active man, involved in many mature activities. The idea that teaching children would agree with him was laughable. But there was nothing for it. He had been maneuvered into this position by two of the most powerful wizards in Britain, perhaps all of Europe. He would just have to adjust.

"In that case, I could use a fake memory for this meeting. Not too fake mind. Nothing scripted."

Albus nodded. "Then perhaps you'd better go knock on my office door again," he said with a smile.

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**Andy's Note:**

The title of this chapter took me far too long to come up with! LOL!

First, I'm sorry this took me so long. It's not over, but it may be some time in between updates. My other story is taking most of the time I can devote to writing. I do, however, hope that the length of this chapter will make up for it. (Oh yeah, and the content too - lol) Your reviews are and always will be, appreciated and answered. I have no one reading over the chapters for this story before they're posted, so I rely on you to inform me when I make an error. I understand though, if you just like to jump on and read and then run off without reviewing. This story is as much for your amusement as my own so enjoy! However, I've ensured that anyone can review, even anonymously and you can swear if you feel you must. :)

**And now to reviewers who were not logged in:**

**To skeptic**: Well actually, you're the only one that didn't log in. That's quite all right with me though. That is exactly the type of thing I'm looking for in a review, so thanks! It gives me a real good idea of what you like about it, which matters. I do hope you liked this chapter too. Thanks and enjoy!


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